Ask Mother

As the sun rose over the hill, like a toddler on his knees. At dawn day is younger, on feet by noon a teenager. Now my thoughts they wander, my imagination full of wonders, I asked mother? Whilst the sunsets below the valley, like the aged walking down an alley. Where went he by dusk, when the moon came out at night, and the stars with little lights... “So he lays his head to sleep,” said she. “in the arms his mother keeps.”