A Mother and Her Child

A mother and her child.

I try to decipher her gaze and, entranced, have fallen under her spell.
She could be a Madonna, holding a babe in swaddling clothes, safe in
its mother’s arms and not yet aware of the world outside.

What are those eyes and that enigmatic smile that lingers on her lips
trying to tell me? There’s magic here that transcends time.

This was my mother. This was me. 91 years ago.

3 thoughts on “A Mother and Her Child

  1. This is so lovely!

    Are you also the little girl with the ball?

    Each wistful observation and penetrating thought fragment make me feel that much closer to you. Thank you.

    Liked by 1 person

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