I WONDER

I wonder if I will be a good mother a mother who

fears less than fright or darkness

would allow given the hollow

road one wanders once that baby

is born.

I wonder if she’ll love me as much

as I deserve or don’t deserve

depending on who is doing the talking

or listening or dancing or walking

or wondering.

I wonder if she’ll want to listen

to me if my knowledge has no tricks

or trades or bits and bytes and pieces

relevant to a teenager’s struggles yet

allow me to regaze toward my

past where I might relive

and perhaps change the pain

to less pain.

I wonder if I feed her she will

grow into a tree and reach out

toward the sun without doubt.

I wonder if I hold her

hand she will let me.