STEPMOTHER
I have deep respect for stepmothers. I
am not a stepmother and didn't have a stepmother. But I know
stepmothers, and it can be tough! Which is why, some years ago, I
wrote this poem about Anne Moynet, who was John James Audubon's
stepmother.
Anne Moynet
Audubon, Long before
Birds
of America
This
boy would dart off before dawn,
climb
trees, examine eggs, take out
his
little pencil and draw the birds in flight.
When
I’d meet him at the arbor with tea
and
cookies, he’d share the bounty
of
pockets: egg shells, nests of curling
leaves,
feathers of every color. So what
if
his cheeks stayed smudged and he rarely
made
it in time for supper? For those
of
you who’ll say, he was
not yours,
I
ask you: Does the earth not belong
to
the sky? Does the shore not love
the
ocean, even as it crashes upon it?
Does
the bluebird not sit on the nest,
even
if the egg is speckled instead of pale?
- Irene Latham
♥️ Wonderful ending! Thanks for sharing it again.
ReplyDeleteTab, thank you for following these posts. I'm glad it's coming to an end soon, and grateful for your company. xo
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