I knew my mother
Had fed me her very blood
For all infants suckle;

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

After I relished the wonderful
Dish of spicy fish
That she had cooked in the day
And had waited without partaking it
To serve me first;
After I returned.

I spotted the wound
On her hand,
Where the fish-bones had drawn her blood
And now was hurting painfully
And I knew that for a second time
She’d willingly given her blood to feed me.

And then I sat in awe
As I realized
This may not have been
Just the second time.