Mothers Day
Mothers Day used to be magical. Homemade cards and pictures,bead necklaces I wore later to work,and hugs galore. Later on, tickets,dinners,texts. Glorious time changed pages. Mothering often disrespected forgotten. Heart lined with velvet faded and worn still beating out love no matter what.Alone. No one needing a hand to hold. A job well done. Proud weeping. Better way as I drift to mist. I can walk off stage now unnoticed. This next Act is all for me.
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