MOTHER'S DREAM - Symposia: The Online Philosophy Journal

MOTHER'S DREAM

I go to sleep; I'm forty-five.
With my five kids and spouse alive
We're at our cottage by the lake.
We swim, we sail and then we take
A boat ride to blueberry hill
Where we all pick for pies to fill.
The evening comes, the lake's like glass
That cracks as loons and beavers pass.
Then crickets start their nightly tune
Which ends the day, oh far too soon.
It was a time of so much fun.
I wake alone; I'm ninety-one.

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