Ever since the first time I moved to an island,
I have loved driftwood —
It can be so deliciously complex,
Plus I have a tendency to anthropomorphise…
I’m not around it much any more,
But this one caught my eye yesterday
While I waited for a ferry.
What do you see?
I see an alien mother,
Cradling her youngest with one hand
While checking on or listening to an older child
Who seems to have fallen.
Fanciful, I know, and yet
My own maternal sympathies awaken, and stretch
To ache for and include
All the mothers of the world…
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