58 words
Deep from head to toe
into the second sleep,
sister to the crow,
she does not hear me weep.
A continent away,
a sky and ocean apart,
I am her last born stray,
I with my leaky heart.
No, we won’t ever meet,
resurrected mother,
the shoes now off your feet,
with father, uncle, brother.
25 January 2015
1 comment
A mighty fine poem. Thanks.
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