“Mother”
Naomi Tercero
I wonder if my mother–
(who hates it when I call her mother only because she called her mom “mother” whenever she was angry with her)
thinks of me when chlorine chokes
and burns her eyes.
I wonder if my mother is still proud of me.
I never know how best to explain us, mother.
Now even less. Now that I scare you.
Now that you seem uncomfortable.
When I look in the mirror,
it is not you that I see.
But the words that come out of my mouth,
are you with every syllable.
I’ve never wished for different circumstances so much.
I think you and I would have made good friends otherwise.
Mother, I am angry with you.
I know you are angry with me too.
You can call me “daughter,”
if it makes you feel any better,
any sense of normalcy.
And I will call you “mother.”
As long as you keep calling.
I will too.
Poetry – “Mother”
Naomi Tercero
Naomi Tercero writes to remember, to imagine, and to make sense of what lingers. She is a student of Journalism and Media at New Mexico State University in Las Cruces, where she explores poetry, creative nonfiction, short fiction, and journalism. Her work has been featured on KRUX radio’s blog and in many local community writing showcases.