Origami Storm poem by chamrickwriter randomstoryteller.com with image of origami crane 1024x512 px

To My Mother: Origami Storm

origami-storm-poem-excerpt-by-chamrickwriter-randomstoryteller.com-with-image-of-origami-cranes-940x788-px

Although I previously published a version of this poem, I revised it with a certain precision—in keeping with my mom’s handiwork. A science major turned homemaker, she lived joyfully and creatively.

I opened cereal boxes upside down

And absently stuck them on a fridge shelf,

Defying the precision strokes of my mom,

The domestic engineer of measured cups

And chocolate chip dough teaspooned

In perfect circles on scarred cookie sheets—

“After all, cooking is chemistry”—

Wielder of pinking shears zigzagging

On the bias of sensible school-dress cloth.

I fingered the lines of ebony rickrack

Tracking the collar and pockets

Of a black-and-white-checked hand-me-down,

Freshened with new pearl buttons

And plumped by stiff, lace-trimmed petticoats;

I scratched at whispering crinolines.

My mother never cut, creased, and turned origami,

Yet showered my youth with the luck of one thousand cranes—

A healing storm of happiness.

 

 

14 Comments

  1. Dan Hise

    Well measured verse for a well measured mother. My own mother could neither cook nor sew, but she was still nice enough to spoil me. Your poem happily brings up memories of my mother’s mother, who had your mother’s skills in spades. She was a tough one, and weaponized the Bible, but one taste of her coffee cake and I was her undiluted devotee.

  2. Leila Lou Baldwin

    Your poem filled my heart on this Mothers Day! Shes smiling on her beautiful, talented daughter! We need a catch up chat my friend!
    Love ya!
    Leila Lou

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