Saturday, May 9, 2015

Mother's Day








 Night and Morning



by Dorothy Aldis






The morning sits outside afraid

Until my mother draws the shade;


Then it bursts in like a ball,


Splashing sun all up the wall.

And the evening is not night


Until she's tucked me in just right


And kissed me and turned out the light.

Oh, if my mother went away


Who would change the night  to day? 










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