I see the moon and the moon sees me, Under the shade of the collibah tree. I say to the moon that shines on me: Shine on the one I love.
My Mother used to sing that to me.
In fact, she would sing it to me tonight with very little provocation.
Moms are like that.
The moon - just another mother - is like that.
Talk all you want about reflected light.
She shines.
With very little provocation.
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