Scene II: A Sunday scene

Sunday calm
Sunday warmth
Sunday with it’s solace
Sunday with it’s blessings.

But every Sunday
For a few years or so
I remember things
That now don’t seem to go
With how you cooked a meal
Or just sat there in Your place
With that quiet relief, in Your face.

Sunday was our time
While you combed Your hair
And I knew you were all mine.
Beautiful creature, if only I was thee
How you always said that you were me.
Baby girl one day you’ll be
Mama’s grown up girl
And life is yours to see.

Sunday, sweet Sunday
Now I have this void you see
Forgotten every bit of what it used to be
When family gathered or happiness just filled me
I wonder is this how my association to you should be
Dark remembrances or just fading scenes
For the actress in my movie
Every Sunday she lighted the scene
Mama where is that glow?
Was that our ending scene?

Sunday thoughts
Sunday scenes
Nothing more
But broken dreams.

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