Red-eyed

Red rims your warm brown eyes
night of crying, day of cold
have made those warm eyes hard, bold.
You will not back down
from the helmet man
your children, your friends
depend on your strength.
Ringlets of red hair,
held back by a simple band
freeing your face from
fanciful ideas,
framing your stare
framing your quiet
determination.
Long past anger,
you will not give up.
Does the man in the helmet
see that? If he raises his
baton against you,
will I have your strength?
Will I run to pull you back?
You are standing there for me.
I hope I can be as strong, dear Mother.