Poem: Little Hymn

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All Kinds of Things for Love

[A Debt]
in a dream, i saw my mother
before she was made mine. her
life still unburdened by the weight
of raising someone. no one has left her
to be in a grave & she is yet to know
where the nearest cemetery is. 
when she runs across the field, no tiny footprints 
gather next to her steps. her 
hunger simply hers alone. 
we do all kinds of things for love. look at me. 
look at me returning her life to her. 
even in a dream.
--noor unnahar