Alone with two young children, feeling strange,
I call my mother. Help me, please, to change
this whirring in my head, the words I want
to say. Instead, however, garbled font
of nonsense springs. In minutes she is there,
takes over everything. She’d seen the flare
of danger. I learn later how she flew
into such action, caring for me, too,
along with entertaining children. Calls
to husband, doctor, two of many balls
she balanced during epilepsy’s dance,
showed her efficiency. Later I glance
at her in new ways, wondering just how
she moves in quiet circles, and I vow
to thank her, but a seizure strikes again.
Again my mother serves and loves…times ten.
