1 minute reading time
(64 words)
Mother
You, dear mother,
are all women, all wonders
and of your form flow
rivers of grace
your gaze sets forests
ablaze with love
you carry the leap of the storm
and the poise of the seasons
you have the freshness of dewdrops
at sunrise,
and the eternal light in your eyes
is the glow of this nation's
future dawn.
Pub in Burnt Offerings, 1996
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