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Abstract

I am the crow, flapping my wings, observing the children playing at their mother’s feet. I bear tidings of great joy to those whose hearts are open and minds are ready to receive. Sometimes I am the dress my mother wears to church.</p><p id="f3fd">Copyright ©2020 by Harley King</p><p id="e888">If you like this poem, you may also like <b><i>Memory Leaf.</i></b></p><div id="ffcc" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/memo

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I Am

A Poem

Canva-Photo by Tom Swinnen

I am the clothesline where my mother hangs the wet clothes. I flap in the breeze and dance in the wind. Sometimes God dances with me and opens my heart to memories of the love I have felt. Sometimes I am the crow, flapping my wings, observing the children playing at their mother’s feet. I bear tidings of great joy to those whose hearts are open and minds are ready to receive. Sometimes I am the dress my mother wears to church.

Copyright ©2020 by Harley King

If you like this poem, you may also like Memory Leaf.

Poetry
Motherhood
Dance
Birds
Identity
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