On a late April night
of forest fire tears
My mother was entanged
in a circle of Jade and tears
Of Jade stones
glowing softy
within her room
of gentle lemon
walls
Of a body of stillness
like the red soft
rocks in her garden
Tears told the
story of her
Parkinson hour
Trying to float above
a sea of its
Pain
In a night of Jade and Tears
To walk with grace
To dance again
with the power
of her forgotten youthful days
was her dream
was the song
she had
within her heart
In a night of Jade and tears
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