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QuillOak

Lyric Poem · Poems About Mom

First Call

by The QuillOak Editors

Whatever news the day brings in,

the triumph or the squall,

my thumb already knows the way:

you're always my first call.

You picked up through my growing pains,

you'll pick up when I'm gray;

whatever else my life becomes,

you're one ring away.

Original poem © QuillOak — free for personal use.

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