April 5, 2018
By dorothygale SILVER, Brasschaat, Other
dorothygale SILVER, Brasschaat, Other
5 articles 0 photos 1 comment

This little old lady
Her wrinkly hands
Once bathed and held me
And peeled my oranges
Her crackly voice
Once sung me lullabies
Her hunched body
Once bore the woman who birthed me
I watch her nonchalance as she waddles across the busy street
And I see that after all these years
She’s only growing younger

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