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Mile Markers
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by
Ironhorse Writer
©10/25/2003
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On the outskirts of town
Every Sunday, after Church
With a Bible in her hand
She sits beneath a birch
Reading several passages
Quoting a favorite psalm
Recalling how the ‘Good Book’
Somehow kept him calm
Between the mile markers
There stands a wooden cross
It speaks of love
Of faith above
A mothers tragic loss
"A good boy with a ‘wild hair
Yet, who among us hasn't sinned?"
The preacher smiled and affirmed to all…
"Now, he truly rides the wind"
Thus she reads beside the road
Prays for all ‘the others’
So many highways, so many sons
So many weeping mothers
Between the mile markers
Stands a cross, beside a birch
He comes to hear
And dry a tear
Every Sunday, after Church
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