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I went out to the woods one day,
To test my mother’s love.
At dusk she will call me home from play
She’s prepared dinner for the both of us.

But today I will not return.

I wonder, today, what she’ll do
When she discovers I am gone.
Would she cry in panic,
Or pace in worry,
Or lie dazed, like most, without a clue?

Either way, panic, worry, despair won’t do.
Only love, love, love and find will do.

I wonder if she’ll leave her pot to spoil,
Or let that monster baby croak an hour more?
I wonder if she’ll leave in such a hurry,
And leave the door ajar?
Would she lead 1000 ships from shore, from afar?

Light recesses, and the little Suns above gleam to invite night in.
They’re sitting pretty all the time, no one searches for them.

I hear footsteps.
The scuffle of leaves (is that her?).
Or empty rhetoric, again, from Mother Nature?


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