my mother

was opposed to the internet
although she had never used it
someone apparently told her
about the vast network of computers
branching out throughout the world
connected together by cables and of the content there
that whatever you wanted to see could be seen and
whatever you could imagine would be there
and of it's powers to enchant
like some crafty witch the unwary
and unsteady

this concern for evil was part of her role
and her tradition her people were pilgrims
the ones in thanksgiving
with the indians

so she married a handsome and brilliant
young theologian waited to start
a family and stayed in touch

with the line it ran
clear back thru generations of strong
folk god fearing farmers
a few reprobates occasional
baptist preachers or otherwise preachers
of this she was certain until
the history grew dim hadn't been written
down or somebody didn't save it lost it
in the dark forest the smouldering campfire
cooking

and someone said will you be in marriage with me
and the marriage was blessed and the child was born 

be the mother of my child for me i have no one to be the mother
someone said
drink this 
someone said
in the forest or in the camp
before there was writing there was my mother