Gift of Words
Gift of
Words
february 1984
jp melville
A daughter’s
mother
Asks of a
mother
That mother
to her son
‘Help wash
away the pain’
He closed
his eyes and dreamed…
Winter’s
cold darkness a blanket
with sounds
the trees
distant
barking
the
solitude
blown over
miles of fields
drifting
snow
lonely
sideroads…
softly…
softly…
The
stillness of this early morn
quiet, dear
for morning’s
sun breaks upon the cacophonic silence
in the
trees chattering birds.
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