The New Fawn
It’s the hardest, yet easiest job.
Though the days are long,
the months pass by
like stones skipping on water.
What I would do to see myself
from her wide, dark blue eyes.
Does she see tiredness through peek-a-boo?
Does she see the effortless affection?
Milestone memories flood my phone
as if they’re pushing back the life before her.
Who was that doe without a fawn?
Who was that sow without a cub?
With every new cry, step, or tooth
comes an influx of emotions.
Such as radiant exhaustion.
Such as anxious benevolence.
Though it’s a parent’s curse to worry,
I leap into the next chapter.
Just like she does off the sofa.
Just like she does into a pile of leaves.
As much as she questions the world,
I question my luck
because I know ever since having her
I am a much better version of myself.
A Mother’s Figure
I recently googled 1950’s females.
Each had aprons, powdered faces, and dresses
with their home cooked meals prepared in heels
holding multiple babies as motherhood successes.
I stared into the bright screen
in sweatpants and a ponytail.
The dirty dishes keep piling it seems
as constant clutter with no avail.
The notion that motherhood is effortless,
that we were somehow bred,
causes overwhelming stress.
The two lines on the tests are often misled.
Truth is mothers are even more amazing.
Mothers, today, do it all.
Constantly thinking of those they are raising.
It makes me relieved to have a mother to call.
So, then I googled current mother illustrations.
I found one tired woman with six arms.
She was a superhuman with powers for organization.
Forget the exhaustion, she had strength and charm.
To those that do it all: care, work, clean, bathe, and make meals,
thank you for doing it, even without an apron and heels.
Published in Cababi Magazine May 2024
Mattison M. Casaus 