Just like that, reading the text message reply from my grown daughter
I remember how pride hides like a dagger
It seems to pop out of an old hurting self,
such a splinter, wild to be ejected.
Her pride lashes at this caring mother
who apparently doesn’t understand.
Except once I
threw off a demon
just like that
I was young,
and how tender
my pride lashed
as I first forged my way
in the world.
Her third grade teacher once told me:
Your daughter’s stubborn, and that’s good-
it shows she has character.
I know now that she is
fierce enough to survive.