To the reader

Some thoughts, I cannot keep.

Monday, May 7, 2012

The Tired Woman's Song

Give them your skin, mother,
give them your hair.
Give them your youth, mother,
give them your care.

Once you were rocked
now you are rocking,
once you were listening
and now you are talking.

Give them your heart, mother,
give them your eyes.
Give them your hope, mother,
give them your lies.

Once you were beautiful,
now you are kind,
once you were yearning
and now you're resigned.

Wiser and weary
and broken and lovely,
your joy is your labor,
your labor, your glory.

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