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Poem: Mothers in the Morning 

They cherish that space between
the pensive and the performance
Before the bells of flatware
or the press of bathroom doors

Before the questions and requests
the lists and laundry
The space they share with only the
slow maneuver of light

Willing to slip from beneath
the warmth of covers
Avoiding the creak of bones and stairs
stealth among the silence

That ephemeral space between
The dark and the light
before the rising calls
and beckons her to duty

  • Poetry edited by Phillip Levine.

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