Ode to the woman
that carried my name
that carried the ties that bind
and if truth be told – love behold
the gentler times
are all that matter today
a day that time dissipates
into tears of joy
and memories reflect
tints of glorious color
while the sharpness
blurs into muted shades of gray

Ode to the woman
that held my heart with gentle hands
– but never long enough

Ode to the wounded dove
that flies above
with curls and pearls
a fragile child’s dream

Ode to letting go,
to the natural flow
wisdom passed
from generation
to generation
babies growing stronger
and brighter

Ode to the woman, my mother
…to Dorothy

© 2016 Trilby Yates