We sat in the round
and rubbed our stories
like prayer beads that
we’ve kept,
but one man let
the world erode him—
so naked, so sacred
he wept.
August 8, 2016 by Rosemerry
We sat in the round
and rubbed our stories
like prayer beads that
we’ve kept,
but one man let
the world erode him—
so naked, so sacred
he wept.
Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged grief, poem, poetry, story, surrender | 4 Comments
Heartbreakingly beautiful
Thank you, it was so beautiful to watch this man, so humbling, so powerful.
I can feel it…..exceptional. Thanks
Thanks, Carol
It was a gift to watch him.
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Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer 970-729-1838 wordwoman.com
From: “comment-reply@wordpress.com” Reply-To: Date: Tuesday, August 9, 2016 at 12:46 PM To: Rosemerry Trommer Subject: [A Hundred Falling Veils] Comment: “Stages of Grief”
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