I know I’m always impatient at this time of day,
But I love it when she gets home.
I look out till I see her come around the corner,
And into our street.
The determined swing of her arms.
Her quick feet on the pavement,
The tune she hums as she walks.
She tells me it’s her favourite time of day,
Her “me and you” time.
Our “us” time,
When we cook together,
Laugh together,
Tell each other about our day.
And then bed,
And a chapter of the latest book
We’ve chosen to read.
I love it at this time of day,
…when my mother gets home.

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