A woman teaching a little boy to ride a bike

A dedication to my mom

Keith Stevens
Keith Stevens

Your mom is always with you.
She’s the smell of certain foods you remember.
She’s the cool hand on your brow when you’re not feeling well.
She’s the breath in the air on a cold winters’ day.
She is Christmas morning.
Your mother lives inside your laughter.
She’s the place you come from, your first home.
She’s your first love, your first friend.
Nothing on earth can separate you.
Not time.
Not Space.
Not death.