Memories of my mother,

Moments of dot connecting.
             Life giving life.
Sometimes backwards in my journey of self-defence.
Odds have been fought against when are backs have been to the fence.

I looked for that flame most every day.
Hands weak, heart strong.
I have wondered often where this is coming from.

Honeysuckle wind swept thoughts crashing at times as the sea I do admire.
Perhaps it reminds of you and I.
Standing alone against demons of our own.

Those should be sent away with the tide,  white waters cleansing our souls.

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