Mother

It stormed the day you passed away
The rain was as warm as my tears

You gave up life with a sigh
As though it was another disappointment gone by

I shouldn’t have touched you
When you turned cold

I loved you laughing
And warm to hold

I talked with you and Dad today
Neither of you had much to say

Your pillars of stone
Lie flat on the ground

So lazy caretakers
Don’t have to mow around

You were an Arkansas girl
From a family of eleven

Waiting now
For your place in heaven

Resting finally, as you never did in life
Free at last from a world of strife.

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Woody Barlow

Woody Barlow was born in Kansas City, Missouri, and raised in Olathe, Kansas. He is the author of Tarzan Wore Chaps, and The Aluminum Ballet.

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