from he second free site as I was still floundering – and foundering – through WordPress…must blame Christina Hollerbach-Simmons for getting me this far
My mother was a witch, she’d say,
catching me at play with her behind eyes
at a breakfast feast for one.
“Which witch?” would I reply.
Red shoes or none, Dorothy’s Done,
and run with the sun.
It rained the night my mother died.
’twas well Heaven cried.
(revised October 8 & 9, 2013, from rewrites and edits of 2005, 2001 and July 7, 1995).
Copyright (c) 2015 by J Kirk Richards