When I was a child, it was my
mom I loved the best,
When I was a teenager,
I began questioning,
was I worthy to befriend?
As a young single mother,
I wondered if I was worthy of
another love? Now in the
winter of my years,
snug under my covers warm
and tight, my inner poet
whispers in my ears at night,
to not be afraid to bare my bosom
to the moon and upgather my
pollen like a sleeping flower,
when my days are no longer
that of harmony, beauty
and/or dramatic expression,
Triton will blow his horn and
I will join my mom in deep repose
both of us eternally loved.
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Edwin
What a beautiful story about love and life. Well written.
Mary