Why Am I Starting to Smile?



Why Am I Starting to Smile?

Remember that time
after raspberry pancakes
when Mom declared
in our olive-green kitchen: Today,
I’ll teach you to swing.

She smiled as she hollered:
Just gotta lean
into it.

My butterfly rain boots
wriggled through air
and went nowhere
on that tired, steel swing set.

Ever the teacher
she hoisted her own
thick hips
into a black smile
next to me.

Mom pumped sky
in her stone washed jeans

Her grown-up body
heaved all the way back
whipping her mess
of brown hair above

then below
that top bar of rust,
when her seat suddenly

She gripped the old chains-–
stuck the landing.

Remember our laugh?
That sudden air gush,
lung-crush of hilarity
that roared from our cheeks–-while
everyone else held their


* * *

Although I wrote this poem from my daughter’s perspective, I was actually the mom who did this in real life. My kids still enjoy bringing this memory up to strangers at various playgrounds. I’ve decided to join them in their laughter and create further fun with it. Thank you, TweetspeakPoetry.com, for the fabulous poetry prompt.

If you’d like to do a little more mommish reading, I recently found a fresh garden of well-written Mom Stories over at MakesYouMom.com.  Its editor, Laura Brown, has tucked these pieces into category-pockets like: “Poetry Moms,” “Funny Moms,” “Meditative Moms” and “Caregiver Moms.” If you’re looking for Mom Books they have a page for you too. Enjoy.

Poetry and photo by Bethany Rohde. Please do not use without permission.


2 thoughts on “Why Am I Starting to Smile?

    1. I mean, that playground was motionless and silent for a good 30 seconds. Let’s just laugh! Thanks so much for reading the poem, Donna. I’m glad you enjoyed it.

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