My Mother: A Solstice

I saw a smuge of eyeliner 

on her sunned, freckled cheek

I wish I didn't have to watch her shimmy 

sighing hard 

into her jeans

or smearing her lipstick 

on a dry dark mouth

knowing she is blue enough for two

I'm not afraid to say I'd change how she sees herself

I want her steady with usual morning bravado 

and I am tired of all the cigarette smoke 

fake smiles at passerby

and learning to use her lips to lie

I'd change the way she acts

like a solstice

holding her breath 

and forgetting to laugh

on long nights

Again I look at my mother

turning in the mirror

Knowing she must change 

She too is here in abundance

and something must be said for it.