Archaic
By your standards
The hint of amber in the color
Of the skin
Dusty –somewhat
Like Oklahoma
In my mother’s earliest days
As I recount her time there
Here
And beyond
It occurs to me
I never really knew her
Nor would she allow intrusion
Into her misery
Her knotted limbs
Reminded one
That
The growing things
Are often off-limits
In God’s carefully tended
Garden.
(c) jim hill (3-14-03)
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