My mother never taught me anything
I valued. She suppressed my every ask,
regaled with superstitions, couldn’t bring
herself to laughter, ever in a task
or planning more, and even facing death,
the only lesson I derive is not
to mimic her. I will not waste a breath
on gripes. I’ll take the best approach I’ve got.

I’ll ape instead the dog I lived with long:
to use what works and work around the rest.
I’ll self-survey, exert when I feel strong,
and sink to nap whenever that seems best.
I’m grateful for what’s functioning today,
and patient irksome pain may fade away.