I am a mother,
instead of a picture, multiplication table adorns my kitchen wall.
I have 8 arms like an octopus reaching in every direction.
Nobody can worry as much as I do.
There is always some stain on my clothes that detergent won't remove.

I am a mother,
my notebook has dinosaurs drawn on it
the wall of my bedroom a little artist's exhibition.
Me and my cell phone fall apart too often.
I lose my keys every other day.

I am a mother
and a pediatrician though I never went to medical school.
I play the cook, the nurse, the teacher, the driver, the singer
selfless like the rain, the earth, the sun.

I am a mother,
small things make me cry for joy.
like little notes that say "luv mom"
or sketched portrait with ugly teeth and fuzzy hair,
every line reflecting admiration and care.

I am a mother,
my heart deep and vast like an ocean.

I am a mother,
paradise lies under my feet.

Mirkena Ozer pursues MA in creative writing at the University of Georgia, Atlanta.

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