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  • When I was a young girl, I would often fall asleep to the sounds of my mother at her sewing machine just outside my room in the circular center room on the second floor of our home. I would call to her, "Goodnight, Mommy!" to which she would reply, "Goodnight, Honey!", as she returned to her sewing. One time, I awoke to the sound of her sewing machine in the middle of the night. Spooked, I went to her room to find her asleep next to my father.

    Years later, I wrote this poem to commemorate the experience:

    I remember
    often leaning into my room with the light
    were the sounds of my mother:
    her sewing machine softly chiding,
    her voice sweetly saying,
    "Good Night, Honey",
    as I drifted off to sleep.

    But one night
    I awoke and heard
    Lady Kenmore* singing alone.
    Blinking away the black of night,
    I strained to see but only saw
    the dark-speckled grey
    of emptiness.

    It was then
    her "Good night, Honey"
    whispered in my bewildered ears
    leaving me in awe and alone.

    *(Kenmore is U.S. brand of sewing machine)
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