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.Through the
tired leaves of autumn
I see her golden
face.
Just rising
over the dusty hills
A full moon
brings babies doesn't it?
I shrug and
smile.
Babies come
when they come
But what better
time to be born
When the mother
shows her autumn face
Warm, golden,
haloed by the dust of the harvest
Full and round
as a pregnant belly
All her mysteries
inside, waiting
Waiting, waiting,
always waiting
For that first
tug and tightening
That pull of
the groin the dew of the womb
The tumultuous
strain and release
The road of
the mothers cry as one becomes two
She brings
her baby to the mother
Holding her
daughter high, naked
For the mother
to see
To light the
child with her golden glow
It is finished,
or just begun
Through the
tired leaves of autumn
I see her golden
face.
Judy
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