Bad Mama Heaven

I saw bikers today
six of them
and I wanted to ditch everything
and join them. 

To leave my daughter
my traveling companion
on the side of the road
and straddle that bike
wrap my hands around that waist
push my front into that back
sure, even inhale that Marlboro exhale
kiss those beer-scented lips
roll through the Colorado mountains
with no certainty of making it to the other side. 

This is a forgotten self. 
All mothers have them.

We tuck this part away
we don't speak of it often
sometimes, some of us even stop feeling that urge, hearing that call
to go play with bad boys
to be a bad example
to stop being so steady and solid and predictable and safe.

Dear god. Release me from safe. Release me from responsible. 

Each girl has a wing out of the nest
both are equal parts
beautiful and smart, 
dumb and naive -- 
neither knows it yet
and so...
I am still needed. 

I get back in the car
I imagine the bikers feel my desire
I imagine they would take me
with them
if I asked real nice. 

I tell myself...soon
my time is coming
right around the next hairpin turn
the next mountainous edge
a wide expanse will open
and welcome me home
to bad mama heaven.

By Monica Day. 

Rachel Browne