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Playdate


Hands wrapped around mugs

Words of hope spoken

Dreams shared

Opened windows

Curtains softly sway

Spring breeze creeps in

Eyes glance out the window

Kids playing

Giggles slip in

Moms converse

Making plans for the future

Who are we?

Just moms?

Does life have more?


Best friends unaware...

...they have just shared a wonderful moment in time.

-Yvette Negron-Torres

(To Marisa: Only you can fully grasp this poem. Funny that what we were looking for was right there in our faces all along. Love ya)

1 comments:

  1. Oh, how lovely. Sometimes as moms we lose ourselves and feel desperate to regain our identities. It's not till our children are older that we realize the best identity to have is the one of "mom." Your poem is lovely. I have thoroughly enjoyed it.

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