My Mother

My Mother
by Colm Cahill

She is a blue bird swooping
over her nest made of twigs.
She is Paris, France
swaying in Eiffel Tower.
She is the dark blue sky above.
She is the moss
on the north side of a tree.
She is the brave
in a clandestine mission.
She is a pancake
flipping in the air.
She is Easter,
finding the eggs.
She is the sand
trickling down from a pyramid.
She is my mother.