Thanks Mother
I had a mother once, twice, a third would be too much.
A sickly mother with her hands all shriveled, and feet cold.
The fingers were long and the wrists were swollen.
The nails on her, hmmm, not sure. But they were there.
Oh, the layers, after layers, many layers shaping many forms.
My head is spinning!
Is that coffee or tea? I asked.
"No, it's coffee." Someone mentioned from a very far distant. (mother)
"Oh" I responded, to myself, of course.
The days are nice when I can go outside and take a walk.
The swollen wrists, and um those cold feet, shh, the nails, on her_.
How does a rabbit catch A,
a rabbit doesn't, but a squirrel could.
A split at the end with no remorse, has its toll on due course.
Say goodbye mother, until, the rainbow changes its shape.
On the horizon, where summer beaches meet the people half-way.
Did I forget to say, thank you,
never!
I thank you mother and I thank you, I THANK YOU (close the book)
The End (take a bow)
Copyright © Brigett Hurley | Year Posted 2013
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