When the going gets tough I get a little tougher The kind of tough that holds my hand and says “gal, it’s gonna be alright” These months I make sure my waves of laughter are in sync with the rising moon inside in of me
I bake sweet cake and ice it with sugary hope I make sure I steam all the vegetables to make them –soft enough to chew So that my body receives nourishment and I can make through these days