Reaching for things, way above me
Mother's hand a moment away
Always pulls me up
Whenever I fall
I would hang when I was young
A weightless giggle.
Now I pull her close against her
She comes closer
Reaching down without looking
Ignoring me for the Sun
Old we are. She's older still
She pulls my heart and guilt cart
Down the stairs
Mother's hand a moment away
Always pulls me up
Whenever I fall
I would hang when I was young
A weightless giggle.
Now I pull her close against her
She comes closer
Reaching down without looking
Ignoring me for the Sun
Old we are. She's older still
She pulls my heart and guilt cart
Down the stairs
posted by Footprint @ 6/21/2006 11:30:00 AM
1 Comments:
At 8:30 AM, December 10, 2008 ,
Lady Writer said...
"Old we are. She's older still
She pulls my heart and guilt cart
Down the stairs"
Ain't that the honest truth...Really like this for some reason...
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