Two good memories of Mother:
Your hands washing my hands when they were small.
You went round and round with the soap, gently parting each finger,
As if each was important.
You watching the geese fly at the change of seasons:
Running first to the window and then out the door,
To see the beautiful V, indeed divine.
Copyright: Mary Skeen, March 2009
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1 comment:
mary dear you are gracious and a better person than I am.
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