MOTHER LEFT






She donned her coat, her hat, her gloves
and waved goodbye the mourning doves
nested in the willow tree
and last of all said goodbye to me.

Where she went I did not know.
When she’d return was a mystery so
I gave her a hug and a hug some more
and watched her leave through our front door.

Down the street in a sort of prance
that was her simple farewell dance.
A twirl, a skip, a jump, a hop;
no pause to turn or even stop.

Before I knew it she was gone
around the corner and beyond.
I’ve watched for her daily from our gate
for forty years and still I wait.



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Poem by Pamela Tyree Griffin
Photo by Elke Oerter
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