my mother once told me,
"you need to get to know the women in your family"
confused, I presumed I had.
but i didn't.
on the porch
holding my coffee
we sat with one another
telling our stories
and I realized.
they were women
I did not know.
There were tales
i was never told
memories in their eyes
I could never hold.
with silver hair
and eyes of gold
we were women
we did not know.
lives filled with adventure
lives full of life
they made mistakes
and so had I.
we were women
beautiful
wild
and imperfect.
YOU ARE READING
Letters to the Old Soul
PoetryThis book was written for the girl with an old soul. my journal full of memories and stories; These poems are honest and true of the wonders and scary things that occur in life as one grows older. These are the documents that illustrate the evolutio...
