The Strawberry Moon and my Mother

This woman of 6 horns

Strike that

Double it

Twelve.

Clothed in dignity

and honor

Laughing at the days to come:

Her children in scarlet.

She sits quietly

at home.

Interrupted

Only

Every other minute

By a call

or correspondence

Of one kind

or another.

A smile that expands

and fills the room.

My mother.

Together

we gaze at the moon.

– Sister Still

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