November dribbles - 3
Sometimes the leaf-fall whispers,
Maybe calling windblown promises
From trees.
Sometimes the autumn chatters
Raindrops splatter in the dust of
Fallen leaves.
Sometimes the children scatter
More like needles from the pine than leaves
To please.
But motherhood remembers
Like the trees of Oregon and bends
Her knees
To Thanksgiving.
Giving thanks for absent family and friends.
Maybe calling windblown promises
From trees.
Sometimes the autumn chatters
Raindrops splatter in the dust of
Fallen leaves.
Sometimes the children scatter
More like needles from the pine than leaves
To please.
But motherhood remembers
Like the trees of Oregon and bends
Her knees
To Thanksgiving.
Giving thanks for absent family and friends.
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