Subtle is the falling rain
that taps the tin roof
Within the moist pulse
a whisper yearns to be heard
r
She is the ghost
a lost echo
Her quiet words
long to be heard
r
Heavy splashes now strike
the wet and weary glass
Dark distant skies
reflect a mothers woe
r
With hand brake applied
and loose make up on cheek
Damp eyes refocus
as she finds the mirror
r
Behind her
in pretty dress and tight curls
Her daughters smile
confuses her gaze
r
She dare not turn
just breathes the scent of relief
Her glee and silence
exchanged and understood
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