the passport
Today’s poem was inspired by a conversation I had with my mother earlier this week. I knew her immigration story from Nigeria to the United States, but what I didn’t know was the story she told of applying for her first passport. I didn’t know what it was like for her to hold that in her hand and to also connect the dots and see the possibilities that were about to open up for her. This poem is for my mother. Thank you for applying for your first passport.
#NaPoWriMo Day 14
the passport
my mother never knew just what it felt like
to hold one
the smooth slightly pebbled jacket
the anemic yet sturdy spine
for the first time
she held her future
she took that spine
and built a whole back
for her children to stand up
straight
