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A Movie With My Mother
Just as the picture fades into black
and the white words in order of appearance
drift up towards the grandchildren
framed above the set
the rhythm and beauty sitting back
behind my mother would whisper
to her what to say, so she said
each and every time
that I remember,
that's how that ended.
And her forefinger finds the button
to end the endless upward drifting
while just beyond the door
and past the porch
a season turns, and I imagine
a trumpet sound, four horses,
the whole scene once revealed to John
now all at once revealed to me.
The rhythm and beauty behind me whispers
that's how that ended.
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by Bob Mundle
Mother's cardigan.
My mother's cardigan
Still hangs on the back of her chair,
A fluffy pink confection
Of kitten-soft mohair,
Mother
Cheerful smile and warm embrace
In my mind, I still see your face
Shining light and flowing grace
Day by day, I think
Where has God kept it?
Where did the creator hide it?
Key of love between mother and child
Who can find it?
She carried me inside
"Mother of the Year, Now and Always"
I need for you to know, Mom,
the depth of my love for you.
I've only begun to realize,
Where Have You Gone?
It's been twelve years now, since you left us all.
Still not a day goes by, that I don't miss your call.
We
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Poetry: On mothers
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