10/11/08_Poem by Betina Hershey Russo
So soft, the twilight glow
Over a busy town full of harvest.
You are sleepy and content
And I, tucked into my bed, am smiling
At your 38 year self.
We have it good. The hens are laying,
The cows produce milk, the sun shines,
And our bundle of love keeps growing,
Even after getting ripped open
By hungry birds.
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