Walking Uptown With My Mother
A poem by Shoshauna Shy

Walking Uptown With My Mother

Me 10 or 11 stumbling along
in my stained Hush Puppies
while she collects catcalls
from workmen in passing trucks
like posies plucked and pocketed
for safekeeping, my mother in a

corduroy A-line mini-skirt, boots
knee-high Nancy Sinatra-style, hair
left loose to swing down her back
in blonde waves.
She did not acknowledge this fanfare,
smile nor wave, but her shoulders
got straighter; heels lifted higher

and when we got home, she pulled
those whistles out to wear every time
she passed one of our hallway mirrors.

About the Author:

Shoshauna Shy is the founder of  the Poetry Jumps Off the Shelf program. Her poems have recently been published by Pinyon, Front Porch Review, Poetry South,  and RockPaperPoem.  One of her poems was nominated for Best of the Net in 2021, and another longlisted for the Fish Publishing Poetry Prize 2022. Her poems have been made into video, produced inside taxi cabs, and even decorated the hind quarters of city buses.

Poetry Breakfast publishes a new poem every weekday morning.
If you’d like your poems considered for publication visit our Poetry Submissions page.

Follow Poetry Breakfast
Facebook