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Mother MAG
October 12, 2013
I miss my mother, yes,
But I can feel her when I stand
In the middle of the street alone
At dusk, in my pajamas.
I can feel her brush my arms
When the sweet wind blows past
And when the trees rustle,
I hear her calling out my name,
“Maggie, Maggie, little peanut girl … ”
© Alexander B, Highland Park, IL
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