Seaweed

A hand raised forcefully
Harshly, she said, wash your feet
She ran off to the bathroom
Quickly, the water ran
warm water, muddy feet, soapy hands
Tears fell, silently, quickly
Tears stained her shirt
Warm tears, dirty face, soapy hands
Scared
Scared of what? Hot water? Mud? Soap?

A mothers hand, strong, stern, loving, tender
Her hands fell into murky, seaweed filled water
tangled they stayed
So are her hands strong? Stern? Loving? Tender?
Bitter of a hard life
Mindless drones of piled up bills
Children she did not want
A life she did not ask for
And from one tiny pirate in her soul,
She must not dirty the water of which her children guide downstream
Yet, she knows the water is not clear
Her reflection can not be seen
Tears fell silently, quickly
Strong hands fearfully tangled in seaweed

Fearfully tangled in seaweed
Scared of a unknown future
Yet, each day passes, each month passes
Each year passes
Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday
March, April, May
Taking a journey through an unknown course
Trails of mud, filth, rocks, boulders
Travel the road wisely
Because your hands, tangled in seaweed
Become their hands, and your feet,
Become their feet
Tangled seaweed, muddy feet, tear stained shirts