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I met her
Once when the stars came out
and my head rested on a stack of pillows
I met her.
A youthful pale face, with red rosy cheeks
The ends of her hair curling up to brush against her ears
My ears.
I recognized this girl from old photo books,
usually in black and white,
but nonetheless here she was
in all her color and beauty.
Years passed and
I watched her like a movie
A member of the audience
as each one of my cries out to her
were left to deaf ears.
A smart young capable girl was presented to me,
reminding me much of myself.
If only I had the heart to tell her the way that she would turn out.
My eyes open in the early hours of dawn,
a slight sprinkling of light peeking in through the curtains.
A very familiar woman is pacing in the hall,
shouting words that are far too vulgar to explore.
I recognize her as I just saw her moments before.
If only she had been able to stay the same woman I would have
loved to adore.
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A melancholy reminder that our mothers were once young dreamers like us.