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What Came to Me
I took the last
dusty piece of chinaout of the barrel.
It was your gravy boat,
with a hard, brown
drop of gravy still
on the porcelain lip.
I grieved for you then
as I never had before.
Posted by patti digh at 10:42:26 PM
Jane Kenyon, What Came To Me
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Love the poem and fitting picture. Where DO you find all of your great images???
21 April 2008 at 06:29
My daughter loves blanket fuzzies. She walks around with them tucked into her fingers when she sucks her thumb when she's tired. I was on a trip to WI for 5 days (the longest I've been away yet) and found a fuzzy stuck to my jeans.
I cried hysterically. :) I was glad to get home.
21 April 2008 at 07:58
Wow. That is all I can think to say.
21 April 2008 at 09:49
That is magnificent, searing, and immediate. I have been trying to wrap my head around grief lately, but there is no wrapping one's head around it... rather it's the gravy droplets that go right to the center of it. I think I would die without poetry to guide me.
21 April 2008 at 10:27
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