My Mom wrote quite a lot, you've heard:
about a quarter-million words,
on land-use plans, or what's occurred,
more Noble Causes to be spurred,
the scientists who buck the herd,
the "gotcha" quotes got word-for-word,
reported straight, most never erred.

But Mom's great passions carried home:
the trails she covered, we'd then roam
on force-march hikes through fields and woods,
the battlegrounds twixt Bad and Good.
Our family outings came with tales
of who bought what, or whose bids fail.
At home we dimmed our closet lights,
the heat was low on winter nights,
our showers pooled about our toes
for water-siphon garden hose.

Of every story she would toil,
of land-use, water, science, soil,
one thread stood out in all that range:
that SPECIAL PEOPLE MAKE THINGS CHANGE.

Politicians, movers, shakers,
urban preachers, graceful Quakers,
CEO's and old-time gents,
mellow, earnest, or intense...
each tale she told around a *person*
(including some involving her son),
that PEOPLE make the difference there,
by what they do or what they share,
by how they give, or vote, or WRITE...
Mom's clearly one such soul tonight.

Bill Softky
August 2 2009