Sunday, May 12, 2013


I am supposed to write poetically
about my mother today.
I refuse to do that
because I know
she would have not wanted me to say
the things I would write.
She’d call them a big windless blow,
useless on a dark starless night.
We never, ever, talked of love
or any of what that shit means
but rather she showed actions
and righteous fights are the only things
that ever accomplished a man’s dream.
Too many years’ dead now
I should say I miss her but
that would be a lie
for every time we  look in the mirror
I see so much of her in I
that we both know without her
there’d be no me looking back at us.

© M Durfee


  1. smiles. i have yet to write a mothers day poem...havent figured out the the end without them, there is not us for sure..i like your mothers day poem man...

  2. great salute to your mom, mark! :)

  3. Love your heart for your mother ~ Funny, but when I look in the mirror, I see her face in mine as I grow older ~

    Happy Sunday ~

  4. Yeah, I'm carrying around a pretty good chunk of mom inside as well.

  5. I like the way the last lines pay homage but with a touch of claw. My mother refuses to let me do anything on Mother's Day, saying it's too commercial. Personally, I wouldn't mind a bit of pampering.

  6. Yes, we are they and they are we...this was beautiful, Mark. I think your mother would approve.

  7. Very nice tribute to the strength of your mother....I too see more of mine in the mirror each day...Mothers live on in our cells

  8. Nice tribute! The apple never falls far from the tree...

  9. Could there be a more fitting homage than acknowledging that they live in us and welcoming it?

  10. Thank you all. My mother was a working social worker for almost 60 years. That woman could move mountains of shit out of the way. Turned down every award or accolade ever offered, "just leave me be to do my work--so and soo on the next floor down could use the recognition."

    Yes Galen she had a beard like God's.

  11. I get this and feel that your mother was a wise and strong person. And you carry her genes and thoughts too.


So Walking Man I was thinking...