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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Family >> ID #1620560 |
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![]() On a certain lane in November, a circle of flowers remain. They should have perished in September, Amid the chill of autumn's rain. Somehow there wasn't a freeze this year, Could divine intervention be far? Four years have passed since I was with you, Gentle snow in a night full of stars. So, we find ourselves at Thanksgiving, Amazed at how blossoms endure. Through a tropical storm called Ida, Buffered by wind and wet, to be sure. On a certain hill in December, do you sense when I think of you? I look at those flowers, so red and strong, And remember your kind eyes so blue. There once was a day in summer, Can't remember the month or the year. We spoke of the flowers I see today, Your voice, in my memory, so clear. For my mother, November 22, 2009
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