January 7, 2012 Sunday Whirl/ Wordle #38

Sunday Whirl Wordle #38


My hands grope

Lost among thousands

Not forgotten

Yet to remember

Causes a shearing

Pain in my chest

You come to me

Slowly bubbling up

From the darkest hiding place

I watch

You breathing for the last time

In the little house

With the thatched roof

The fire in the hearth


A gate opened

Together on the thrshold

Your path new

I was left to rebuild

Still your love fluttering around me

In a flash

I discovered the stones

You had dropped

Marking the way home

You are Mother