Not My Trait

My mother, whose courage was like a rock
always mystified me.
She took that grit and bravery
that was always she.
And I who idolized that treasure
always and ever knew
that I had not inherited that trait
no matter what I do.

I shrink from the smallest trouble.
I cringe from the tiniest fear.
Oh mother, why did you not leave to me
a little bravery here?

poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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