Struggling with what to write about I am trying out poetry for the first time if that is even what to call this prose.
“I wish you could be my mom.” I said as I sat on June’s lap. June (not her real name), was my favorite visitor when the neighbor ladies would gather for coffee clutching, as they called this social time. Most women stayed home and didn’t work outside of the home then. These mom’s would take…… Continue reading I Wanted Another Mother as she Stroked My Hair