You taught me how to love you by
The way that you loved me;
And by your unseen sustenance,
To see what you could see.
You gave to me through who you were
The gift of what I am.
Your pride in me is now my pride;
Your faith, my caravan.
Your life does not conclude with death,
Nor will it end with mine,
For all the lives I touch, you touch,
And so on through all time.
A villanelle for Mother's Day
Should take me just about an hour:
Writing it is child's play.
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