My Mother’s Hands

My mother’s hands

My Fathers fine hair

My sister’s love of adventure

I say’ I love you’ easily

Because you said it without censure


I fight for every underdog

Because of all you bullies

I find beauty in a stone

Because you showed me truly


All my sobs and tears

Because he taught me how to cry

I saw how much I hurt you

And so it hurts to lie


Beautiful mosaics we are

- more beautiful with age

As patterns grow more intricate

And colours start to fade


I look around at those who’ve gone

And find they are still here

In the mirror, in my heart

Every action brings them near.

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