Let’s Get Real
Sweetbriar — a poem for Mom
She was a wild rose
I wanted to be just like her: My mom, my hero: superstar
Each spring, I chose an early prairie rose — a bloom in vibrant hue, a common wild pink eglantine, a pasture rose, a wood rose, a sweetbriar — ‘mong blossoms kissed by sun’s sweet lips, and offered it to her.
Untamed and sweet with sudden barbs, If left alone, produce rosehips: Bittersweet and full of seeds.
She withered without rain and sun. I wonder if she sees me now, I wonder if she’s proud.
I am not like her. I’ll never be like her. I’m seedless, barren, infertile, But I am also wild.
The words in italics in my tribute poem to Mom were borrowed from ChatGPT’s poem, Maternal Love Blooms — see Paper Poetry’s ‘Let’s Get Real’ prompt for details —
Esther learned to read when she was four years old, and began writing shortly thereafter. She is a Canadian queer Christian poet, crafting with words to create art and music.
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