I WONDER

I wonder if I will be a good mother a mother who fears less than fright or darkness would allow given the hollow road one wanders once that baby is born. I wonder if she’ll love me as much as I deserve or don’t deserve depending on who is doing the talking or listening or dancing or walking or wondering. I wonder if she’ll want to listen to me if my knowledge has no tricks or trades or bits and bytes and pieces relevant to a teenager’s struggles yet allow me to regaze toward my past where I might relive and perhaps change the pain to less pain. I wonder if I feed her she will grow into a tree and reach out toward the sun without doubt. I wonder if I hold her hand she will let me.