mother hood thing

I remember asking
my mother where my hat was, or
shoes,
or baseball glove,
or pants,
or shirt, or book,
or a pencil, or pen, or
my pet frog,
or my
list of phone numbers
to all my friends.
the scissors, or a needle
and thread.
we all asked, all seven
of us kids, where
things were.
never truly lost, because
she always knew where
everything was.
always. it was a magical
gift that she
possessed.
she had this motherhood
thing down pat.