On this Mother’s Day in the US, you may be celebrating a special someone in your life who has “mothered” you or whom you yourself have had the privilege of “mothering.”

My young chap, Nathan, will soon begin a summer internship as an interpreter at Tettegouche State Park in northern Minnesota. Bingo, this poem—inspired by a recent adventure the two of us had—is for you, along with a big, long hug! I can’t wait to see you in action, come my visit in July.

By the way, last week I offered “Mother Tree,” another apt poem for Mother’s Day.

If you like either poem, I invite you to share it with a loved one.

Ode to a Flat Tire

            for my son Nathan

We eyeball the flat
like wishes alone
could patch it up
and pump it up
and safely get us
where we’d planned to go,
but no—
so
we hoist the spare
up out of the trunk,
set up the jack,
muse about how
this thing’s supposed to work,
and now
(somehow)
we have to wrench
these lug nuts
off their studs—
all five—
but
I’m not strong
and you’re as lean
as the tire iron
grinding the skin
off your tender hands
and the nuts,
bolted on by mean machine,
won’t budge at all
and
I’m busy
scanning the street
for a kindly man
with muscles enough
to ease our troubles
when—
Got it!
you yell
in boyish triumph,
so loud I jump—
One nut done!—
and I realize
the man I was hoping for
has just arrived on scene.