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Daughter Death Poem

Margaret Adkins had two daughters and one son. Two children stayed close to home but the other daughter, beautiful, talented and successful, became friends with an astronaut named Steven. He took her for a ride in his cub and she fell in love ----with flying. From then on her life was spent in the sky. It's as safe as driving my car . But one Sunday she died without knowing why. She still lives, for she extended her talent to her mother, Grandmother of Writing. (c) Margaret Adkins

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© Margaret Adkins

Published: Jan 2011

Let's Fly

As the sun comes up over the mountain
In the place where she was born.
I can still see her plain as ever,
For she lives in my make-believe world.

She drives on roads that are painted pink:
And crosses rivers without any pain.
She is available for the many great things
that were always coming her way.

Sometimes in the early morning,
I can still see that plane in the sky;
And I relive the pain I felt
That Sunday that she died!

Her world crashed that day-
When she was charting her course;
It would be her last trip in the sky
She would walk on this earth never more.

Now she sees ancestors and footprints too.
She asks of ears that do not hear; Where am I?
And ends in the land of waterfalls.
She feels her skin that's like mountain dirt.

And somehow knows she is home.
It is the land where her peace reigns.
Do not mind, you cannot see her
For where she is we cannot go.

She lays where the shadows grow:
And flowers bloom around her bed,
And birds wake her in the mornings
While fire-flies light her nights.

I think maybe she may
Still be flying in the clouds!

(c) Margaret Adkins

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