Forget DNA, mitochondrial or otherwise
When first I met my birth-mother
After a few hours of chatting like old
friends
We both lay on her bed, staring down
At our pudgy bare feet, hers and mine
We had just been going to take a nap
But now we were giggling and amazed
For if ever there was any proof more
Convincing than these fat feet at the end
Of our legs, hers and mine, I cannot
Think what it could be – chubby feet
Incongruous at the end of fairly long legs;
My husband always maintained they were
Just more leg turned up with nails painted
On the end and here were another pair
Just like them – hah! It was in my genes
Not abnormal, just inherited ...
S.E.Ingraham©
originally
published on Big Tent poetry July 1,2011
