A Child Once More

She looks at your face,

And then at the floor,

Dear Mother of mine,

A child once more.

This chair holds her still,

With pillows around,

She’ll look in your eyes,

And won’t make a sound.

Each night I must go,

And brush her fine hair,

As I start to converse about,

All family fare.

Then I touch her arm,

And hold the thin hand,

She’ll gaze at the stone,

In her wedding band.

I cherish each moment,

that I can just share,

These times with my mother,

And show that I care.

She raises her head,

And catches my eye,

I say that, “I love you.”

And kiss her goodbye.

These difficult times-

Are but only an end,

To prove that true love,

Will always transcend.

Peter Lowell Paulson

September 14, 2010