I carried your mother,
and your grandmother, too,
off to sleep as I carry you now,
wandering round the living room
and into the kitchen and back,
your breath a soft voice in my ear,
your head pillowed against my shoulder.
Just some ramblings - a little poetry, some Creative Non-fiction, a picture of two - from Lake Hebron as I sit here on the front porch, staring across the water, listening to the loons, and enjoying the life of a retired English teacher. And please, leave me a comment, a note, tell me how much you loved -- or hated -- my writing, what it made you think of, made you feel, for it is poetry, meant to invoke in you what it is we share in common, what it is that makes us human.
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