Painted with the colors of my childhood
a door swings, calls my childhood name
the stairs lift me as did mother and father
the breeze, their blessing calling me home
_
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
we're worth it
Already unthinkably wild things have been done and said (by my mom, natch) and wilder things have been said in support (by Big A who is her ...
No comments:
Post a Comment