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My Mother’s Garden

Like morning she rises,

Full of light

she rewrites the sunrise each day.

Her name is the place between home and homebound.

She is my favorite place.

Smelling of sweet breezes

fresh earth

ink and spices.

She is a glass deliciously full

Your favorite song with just the right rhythm

A new pair of dancing shoes

with just enough room to grow into.

She carries herself with a special kind of optimism.

Tending to her garden with the hope

that each year new buds will come back.

Collecting seeds with the promise of new growth.

We are of the same garden.

She planted her roots in me

Teaching me how to blossom.

Gardens have seasons yet she is always in full bloom.

In a word she is perennial.

Permanent.

Unceasing in her love.

Dance mama–

Like the flowers are singing for you.

June 26, 2017