Between my mother's birthday and my own Are hard days for me Valentine's Day to my anniversary Of being alone Too when Saturdays are sadder days Nor Sundays then again fun days For some blue Mondays at the edge of always But what does anything mean but between One and another? Between us there was something there Something meant to share When love won for me and my mother Or when love was lost from one to the other You who loved and lost know what I mean The rhymes of the times are what I recall How time is poetry now after all +Steven Curtis Lance Copyright MMXIV