You know, Momma, don’t you?
You know I love you deep down to the bones of my heart.

You know
The summer mornings with the back door open,
The bedtime nights folded in words,
And rainy days when I ran away,
Don’t you?

You know
The sharp looks in the rearview,
The last stand defenses,
Lasting long after I left,
Don’t you?

You know, Momma, don’t you?
You know I love you with the heart you made in me.

© 2015 Wasted Space Publishing