Ten thousand dead
in Haiti, all forgotten
when my mother's mother
the ground from which sprang
the ground from which I sprang
ceased, finally, to tremble.
in Haiti, all forgotten
when my mother's mother
the ground from which sprang
the ground from which I sprang
ceased, finally, to tremble.
(o)
Oh, I'm sorry, Cat. It always takes precedence, and rightly so.
(I think this is a wonderful poem.)
Posted by
Dale |
24/1/10 20:11
I'm sorry, honey.
Posted by
Chris Clarke |
25/1/10 02:29
I'm sorry, and remember very well how I felt when that happened in my life. {{hugs}}
Posted by
Beth |
25/1/10 13:36
So sorry to hear about your grandma. Our thoughts will definitely be with you and your family.
Posted by
basebell6 |
26/1/10 16:58
Oh, no. I'm so sorry.
Posted by
nina |
31/1/10 12:55
Very sorry. I love the poems.
Posted by
cc |
4/2/10 17:26