Momma

I want to believe that on the brightest warmest summer mid-July day that
was where momma left her heart. When she found out she had cancer and
bits of her died shredded…

She left her love, her heart on the breast of the Robin and the flight of the
hummingbird in the dew dropped windows of early morning. I want to believe that the sun sank down in the sky and left a beautiful sunset that day.

She left her soul up in the clouds where tiny raindrops cry out their tears of sadness that can’t cool her skin on these hot days.

Where she liked to rest on her chaise lounge out back on her wisteria covered deck overlooking her garden where the birds came and ate and sang and she would sing back.

I know she is is there. I feel it in the stillness of the warm hot humid air of mid-July. That caused her to sweat and that was when we would meet and hug and her skin still sweaty and warm, full of love.

I know she is there when I cry tears of memories that keep fading away because I can’t recall the details but I remember the love, the warmth.

Long talks on twilight lit skies. I miss her.

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