Taking time to


All mothers whether

Birth or sacred –

Friend or aunt or

Foster mother

Whether near or

Far, whether

Gone –

Today a daughter

Or son’s

Spirit is celebrated

If only in remembrance,

And, too, a grandmother

And a mother,

Our minds can go

Back over years

Memories stay fixed,

Can never change-

The pen as friend can

Capture pictures, words

That bring joy and sadness,

The graveyard is filled

With the fullness of


Their scent is carried


As we celebrate,

For me pink roses

Are fleetingly short-

Lived but eternal.

Gayle Bluebird (Apr.’20) adds, “Remembering daughter, mother, no longer here, but grandchildren in their loveliness are.  It seems the years pass and I have memories to gather and sort.  Not all are good and wise, not everything was satisfactory, but now standing still I think of pink roses, their beauty and then their loss.  Still the sweet memory of it all.

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