Welcome to My life in the shadows

 
A PAIR OF MOONS
 
My mother, God bless her heart,
had a big round basin
made of tin
that she kneaded bread in
twice a month
and it was battered,
 like the man in the moon.
 
There was a certain sweetness
one could always smell
on Mother’s clothes
as her supple words
fell and rose.
Her children
wrapped in her apron strings,
like little wooden boats
with paint
chipped and cracked
tied line to line
down on the river bank fishing,
but love was always
carried brightly
 in her eyes.
 
My father
a rather large man,
but kind and principled
spent his ancient days
end on end
sitting in his tabled-chair
playing endless games of solitaire
and gruff as a mountain man,
his love masked
within the shadows
of another time
and battered,
 like the man in the moon.

uTAH jAY

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A PAIR OF MOONS TO RISE