Censored, her son’s words,
Tell Pearl Harper hello,
bring a mist to Mama’s eyes.
She doesn’t know a Pearl Harper,
but her son’s message sounds
As a toddler, his words were urgent
as he screamed when a copperhead’s
tail kept slapping across his back.
on Banner Mountain, Mama flew
across the yard, and she rescued her
small son from where he sat on a board
that pinned deadly fangs beneath it.
Today . . . reading the letter from her
grown-up son in Navy uniform-–during
wartime–– she bows her head and asks
God to go where she cannot—to Pearl Harbor!
© 2013, Freeda Baker Nichols