DEDICATED TO MY MOTHER

who could create magic
with her gnarled arthritic hands
her undaunted spirit
and her eye for beauty.

She had the power to mold
second hand rags into haut couture
a few garden staples into gourmet meals
a prairie shack into a doll's house
and me
into a woman who wishes to be
more like her.

I wish she could have known
how much I admired her
even though I was impatient,
standing still and erect
as she stitched and tucked and basted,
and short tempered
at her limitless supply
of rules and old country sayings.

I set it aside for a better time
-- left it much too late --
but I'm sure she knows
how much
I love and miss
her. 		Reflections
"Reflections"   Nadia Shworan '98



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