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Main Page Site Index Getting Pregnant Pregnancy Parenting Pregnancy and Parenting Journals	Mum I talk with my mum. She talks about her mum. Mum has the tear in her eye, The brittle voice, the trembling lips, the shaking hand. I don't understand. My mum died. I talk with my daughter. I have the brittle voice, the trembling lips, the shaking hand, The constant struggle for control, control, control. Emotions. My daughter does not understand, yet. (c) Frances Spiegel All Rights Reserved Comments to Author Share This Page With A Friend -- Would You Like To Read More Poems? -- Parent Prose Main Page Poems about Adoption Poems about Motherhood Poems about Babies and Children Poems about the Death of a Child Poems about Miscarriage Poems about Parenthood Poems about Pregnancy Poems about Growing Up Poems about Special Occasions Letters to Baby Poetry Collections Journals and Essays Books about Writing Poetry The Labor of Love Main Page

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