My Mother Was Young Once

My mother was young once
And when the moon was high
She would sit on the porch
In the evening of her youth
And sing to the sky

My mother had a way of being herself and always playing a role. She had a “stage” name, just in case she got there. But she never tried for the stage where she’d need a different name. Wherever she was was her stage and in my experience the “play” could be tragedy or comedy or farce. It was hers to play, and she did.

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