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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