A Mother’s Love

With the blackest of moss

I cover you like sheathing

To shelter you from the rays

That burn you with scars

On the days

You are reduced to ash

To shield you like raw canvases

With the thickest of paint

To safeguard you from the keeping

Of the second coming of the sun

With the thickest of clay

I will mold you like glass

Without splinters or blast

To not come apart

Like limestone

Only with fractures

Only with cracks