Mother holds my hand As we wait for the bus Just the way she always does Every Saturday morning Standing in the cold Never feeling quite so warm Knowing she is there Close beside me Then entering the bus With greetings from the driver We scramble for a seat Try to keep our balance Pulling away with Anticipation How long will it take? "Not too long" she says Watching cars and traffic Strangers come and go Stopping at every block Down the busy avenue Into the grey of the city Stepping off the bus Dirty buildings Tower above us We walk along In silence She holds my hand The city is is alive In all it's concrete glory Breathing in dust Exhaust and light snow Buildings like castles Hectic sidewalks Moving in all directions When will we be there? Mother answers “a little longer” Like she always says
dreambelieverThere is nothing quite like early memories of Mother. To me, her love is the one that stays with me, even though she is not. This brought back memories I had forgotten. Thank you for this wonderful piece.
lisha_jainYes Maa is our first love :) ❣️First Love We take this opportunity to inform you that we've been conducting a competition On the topic First love on Instagram .. You can participate and win the PRIZE.. Link is in my bio .. For more details Dm me on Instagram @soul_soupcon .. Also You can see my post on mirakee for more details .. Hurry up ..submit your Participation as soon as possible .. Last date is 16th may .. Don't miss this opportunity ❣️ Follow on Instagram @soul_soupcon to participate .. All the best Thank you .. -Lisha Jain