Yesterday’s birthday?
My mother’s. I know for sure
what choice she would make.
In my quiet house
endless choosing for others—
Syllables, and weight
so many, so much.
Responsibility pounds
on my closed front door
Oh grow up, I shout.
So I did. What did I get
for all that effort?
Rooms, roads, and choices
and Responsibility
humming in my head
Puff Of Smoke Poems 