when did i begin to call you my friend?

must've been

                the day your pride tailed me through the grocery aisles

                my daughter remembers to bring reusable bags

                the day you braided honor into my hair

                i've never seen you grow it this long.

                                the night only the porch light observed my arrival

                                your anxiety left watching TV on the couch

                                your door halfway yawning on its latch,

you, asleep, waiting for my whispered goodnight

could've been

                the day that you lost her

                this tissue is yours, she was too

                                asked the stars if they knew she was your best friend

                                                watched their nodding blinks as you spoke

                                                in her weakening absence, my strengthening  presence

                                                                this maternal legacy,

                                                                tomorrow i will borrow this grief from you

must've been

                the day college came to collect me

                packed my limbs into a suitcase

                let the porch light anticipate my return in flickers

                it'll pretend that soon is a synonym for summer

                will i still recognize the doorknobs in the darkness

                                never unpacked my luggage

                                do the dogs remember my laugh

                                do you

could've been

                the day i allowed my nose to fit on my face

                we share one

                can walk across the bridge of yours

                is that your daughter? she's beautiful

                i am my mother. isn't she?

                you are never too far away

                                can always find you in the mirror

must've been

                the day i poured vanilla extract on my vitamins

                you took A, C, B, D, fish oil

                                wish my heart was the size of yours

                                want to churn bitterness into something sweet

                                                want to grow a reminder of the lessons i learned alone

                                                want to raise a souvenir of my cobwebbed dreams

                                                want to love it anyway

                                                want it to call me mom, then call me friend