My mother holds mountains in her palms. I think that’s why her hands shake. Sometimes I hear her crying in her sleep- but I think that’s just the memories greeting her. I wish I could hold her hands forever, but I know how this goes. I have her eyes and my father’s smile- I can see through everything and remind myself to show gratitude. I came from her rib cage and bloomed like a compass rose. I take her to an old diner in the countryside and the coffee always tastes shitty. We laugh and she tells me how many years I have on me for being so young. Says she wish it didn’t have to be that way. Hands shaking- I remind her how gentle she makes my world. I tell her how it was worth the growing pains, sadness and all. -AMT ©️