Laying on a blanket watching the night sky.
The stars shoot by like speeding cars.
I listen to my music box that my mother had given to me when I was a child
I close my eyes and imagine her singing along
her voice travels throughout my body
And a serene feeling overpowers me.
I remember when I was young whenever I was upset or distressed
My mother would sing to me to help me get better
And every time somehow it always helped.
When closing my eyes and hearing this
I feel a cold drop of water fall down my cheek
Thank you mom…
Thanks for everything.
Monday, February 12, 2007
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2 comments:
thats gooood. kinda sounds like your dying, and thanking her for everything she did for you. but its gooood. <3
Wow Morgan...very moving! You're a natural poet. You first stanza is beautifully constructed. The stars as "speeding cars" is a nice parallel to the voice "travel[ing]" through your body--the transitory nature of the moment (and of childhood itself) becomes evident.
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