A Garden of Calm and Quiet

The beauty of a daffodil

lies in my Mother’s hands.

Mom’s palm

is fast to calm any grief.

Mom’s passing went so fast and so slow

but silently none the less.

Oh God, my dear God, how do I make it through this.

I have my Mom’s hands; they make daisies beautiful.

6 thoughts on “A Garden of Calm and Quiet

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