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Hands
Hands Guiding, shaping holding on, letting go supportive, frail My hands stretch out sometimes to catch, sometimes to wave goodbye, watching the soul take flight into the huge, never ending sky. Veins of my grandmother, who I loved very much I would play with them as a child, fascinated by the way they would wiggle…
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Phoenix
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Grandmother
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The journey
Pounding head, Racing heart Knowing less Than at the start Each day I fight the fight Wondering if I’ll reach the light Darkness sinks Me down again All I need Is at the end When the journey’s rough The way is clear Soon the shadows Disappear At the end A new beginning If only strength…
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Young love
So it happened, although earlier, and not the child I expected it to happen with. Recently I was driving the children to school and happened to see a note my middle diva hadn’t put inside her bag. I picked it up, curious, and felt my heart lurch as she expressed her feelings toward a boy,…
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Ode to the road
Sometimes I think I live in my car from point a to point B no matter how far. The sound of the road repetitive and dull strangely is my time relax in its lull. No matter the distance I always enjoy whether by myself, Or with my girls and my boy The road is my…
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Ode to the road
Sometimes I think I live in my car from point a to point B no matter how far. The sound of the road repetitive and dull strangely is my time relax in its lull. No matter the distance I always enjoy whether by myself, Or with my girls and my boy The road is my…