By: Ardis E. Parshall - December 19, 2017 The Mothers By Gene Romolo Again the mothers trim a tall proud tree.They hang a star upon its topmost limb,Symbolic of their Lord’s nativity,And placing it, they think of John or Jim,The son who charts his way among the stars. Does not each waiting mother this night shareThe Virgin Mother’s vigil and her scars?High, high above the earth (they know not where)Their brave young sons are flying t...
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