Eddie Vedder covers Floyd’s “Mother”
Breezy just left the building.
Tomorrow he gets on a plane and moves to OH-UR-Gone.
He thinks it’ll be the desert.
I told him it’ll be green & mountains, so grow some.
We laughed. I’m a mess.
Breezy’s my second son, inherited.
He promised to e-mail when they get settled.
Who will I brew sweet tea for now ?
He thanked me for being his other mother.
I drown in the puddle of his departure.
Ceres transiting your Sun just plain sucks
if you’re a mother-hovered device like me.
So, it’s time to dry up, dress-up and dance
isn’t it ~ under a profound Pisces Moon.
Salt embeds beneath my brow. I’ll sear it to a salutory sandwich.
Raw onion. Mother’s Dinner for One.