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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
I reared a little girl. This is my love of her.

Submitted: July 17, 2012

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Submitted: July 17, 2012




With her hands clasped in mine,

we run down the hill;

She laughs, I feel her smile

upon my face.

We play catch with the sunlight,

jump rope with the winds

beneath our feet;

God, how could another's marriage, conception,

beget this much love to me;

my child, my sister, myself;

Maternal mitosis, forty-six years apart;

Enough time to heal any pain,

erect a new wall within my heart;

For her to grow upon,

my songs, my poetry, my art;

I am colored crayon,

for her to follow

long, long after I'm gone;

I'm every new word

she learns each day at play,

She is the pen in my hand;

My child, my sister, myself.

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