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A Mother mourns her recently departed daughter, if only she could hear her youngsters calling above the rain. As her journey ends, an image offers eternal hope.

Submitted:Jun 9, 2008    Reads: 126    Comments: 2    Likes: 1   

Subtle is the falling rain

that taps the tin roof

Within the moist pulse

a whisper yearns to be heard


She is the ghost

a lost echo

Her quiet words

long to be heard


Heavy splashes now strike

the wet and weary glass

Dark distant skies

reflect a mothers woe


With hand brake applied

and loose make up on cheek

Damp eyes refocus

as she finds the mirror


Behind her

in pretty dress and tight curls

Her daughters smile

confuses her gaze


She dare not turn

just breathes the scent of relief

Her glee and silence

exchanged and understood


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