Un-Mother’s Day

We do not grow in this tiny Everglades prison
Any red or white carnations those dainty badges
Worn to show our maternal status on wrist and breast
Crimson for the living or palest petals to mark the dead
Though we are slashed marked with steel numbers
Instead we do grow this mournful plant a tiny purple
Flower sheltered inside Moses in the Basket does ride
This stormy river wider than any water you have ever
Seen here there is no miracle to part the waves from
Another side you may glimpse a faraway basket swift
Children both the living and dead carried in current
I cannot think fast enough to catch your memory though
My own hands ferried you safe with family a real mother
Chosen to carry you in pain and joy from little boy lives
Saved in the basket away from this life of wire twisted heart
and cold fences. I shall gather tiny purple blossoms nestled in
Soft green arms to remind me and all the un-mothers for every
Day as you grow into men far from the Everglades