Mother
'I want you to be dependent,' she said, So I rode out on my horse and tore down Many a steep hill and into a dark wood, And leapt the becks and always returned Weary and muddy and mindless of my danger. I 'I want you to be feminine,' she said, So I dressed like a boy and climbed trees, And swore no hero was more heroic in deep sea Or mapless land or bomb-filled dark, And never knew that men were different from me.
'I want you to be wealthy,' she said, So I lived poor and hardy and was ready For all the bereavements of the faraway world, And wanted nothing but shelter from Christ, Who stalked my naked mind like a missionary.
Now she is gone I have put on her furs and pearls,
But all I know of woman is reflected in the glass. Like a great coarse clot I finger her desires, - And snivel to recall how they finally burst out And walked up and down the earth, looking fat
a home.
• MAIRI 4aciion30
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