(for the mothers)

•••

On the dusty back window
of a car looking as if it has
undertaken a long journey,
someone has fingered the words
Wander Woman.

Following it down the road
to my mother’s house,
I creep closer, realizing that
it says Wonder Woman—
perhaps a tribute to one
at the wheel.

I want to get close enough
to extend an index finger
and amend the sentiment,
change a letter, add a comma—

Wander, Woman—

because we women tread
in our mothers’ footsteps,
make our way through
the dusty, dirty world,
tidying it here and there,
picking up a little of this
and that along the way,

coming into our wonderfulness
as we wander hither, yon
and ever forward—

on the way to self,
on the way to the place
we call home.