i miss coffee with my mother
she introduced (me to coffee) us
her shiny percolator gurgles no more
i still have coffee with my mother
by myself (with) under the sky
haikus:
the straightened arrow
shot by my aspiration
flies to the target
my straightened arrow
in a quiver of bent ones
feels awkward to touch
i walk in my mother's shoes and though they may not be the style of the day for a man my age, my step is all the lighter for it. Her spirit breathes into every journey i take and i feel her wisdom and her strength with me as i still wander the earth. Her surety graces my path and she radiates golden love across my every stride. Dear mother bless these feet for the roads they have yet to travel before at long last they walk again with you.
the prophet spoke to us of parents,
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