The courage my mother had went with her, and is with her still: rock from new england quarried; now granite in a granite hill. the golden brooch my mother wore she left behind for me to wear; i have nothing i treasure more: yet, it is something i could spare. oh, if instead she’d left to me. the thing she took into the grave! that courage like a rock, which she had no more need of and i have. what would be the best description of the theme of the poem above memory regret a desire for something more rejection