Mama Trudy

she senses my restlessness in her spirit
nothing common about a cold to this woman

when it comes to her child

she ambles into my room
in the sleep walk part of the night
humming a tune

her voice
a burgundy rich mellow alto-soprano
soft and soothing

her hand
farm raised
calloused
warm
rests on my forehead

come on and drink this here lemon tea

I sit up
sip and swallow till the last drop
I lie back rested
all is well

that’s love
that’s love

by Jacqui Miller

Comments (1)

Beautiful and loving write, Jacqui... very nice! ! Brian