Ode To My Mother - Poem by Tim Carlson
She bore a platinum baby,
of one she could be proud.
Her mossy earthen womb,
a misty dew-grey shroud.
She looked down on her pride,
her hope, and she cried as she,
forced her hand beneath
the skin the burn away her babies sin.
she has done it again,
bowed again to the natural salute.
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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
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Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You