11/17/08_Poem by Betina Hershey RussoLooking down on her
We can see how close
She pulls someone
And how her shoulders slope,
Strong and wide.
Here head is bowed forward
To glance at the egg
Her child holds up.
She is worn out, but full,
Ready for another day.
And then finally the last day
Will creep up like a surprise party
She sensed was coming
And the dishes won't have been put away
But off she'll go.
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