The highchair beside the kitchen door
my domain, my view of my world
on the linoleum checker board floor
I played until my knees were sore.
The center of the world to me
I grew to know as my mother
cooking and cleaned while I was free
to grow into what I might be.
A world consisting of black and white
as appropriate as the days television
images remembered vivid and bright
raised by my mother in love and light.