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Dr. Bob is Robert Hsiung, MD,
bob@dr-bob.orgShown: posts 1 to 2 of 2. This is the beginning of the thread.
Posted by Happyflower on April 1, 2008, at 17:41:50
My Real Mother
Looking up into the white oaks kaleidoscope, southern breezes dry
My tear soaked shirt. I burrow myself in a bed of fallen red leaves
Which swaddle me complete. Filtered sun warms my morning chill
As symphonies of birds and cricket cadenzas lull me to sleep again.Get it out! Get it out!
Get that little bitch out of me!
Damn it!
I was born
Escaping that refrigerator incubator.
My amygdala engaging as cord is severed.
Rays of welcoming sun radiate down on me
Through the window. I feel wanted now.Planting sunflowers seeds with my eager children
On a cool crisp spring day, the sun looks at me
As it shimmers on us. I smile back at Mother Nature,
I am warmed.
Posted by susan47 on April 27, 2008, at 19:52:58
In reply to My Real Mother ****triggers*****, posted by Happyflower on April 1, 2008, at 17:41:50
((((Happyflower))))
This is the end of the thread.
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