My Mother
By Brad Kelly
My mother was a raincloud, I think as I lay in dreamy half-sleep. Dropped me down to fertile planet earth to spark some new thoughts, even amongst the contentment rampant in the rise of the world's industrialized nations. Someone must be thirsty for truth within these four concrete walls, or hard at work within future archaeological digs. Written February 11th, 2002 © on Feb 10 2002 11:06 PM PST 17 • 0 • 9
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"My mother was ..."