August 11, 2016 by Rosemerry
What, she said, are you going to do?
I thought of the Tarahumara
who run over a hundred miles
in their huaraches—
take many small steps,
I said, and let a smile
find my face.
Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged answer, approach, poem, poetry | 1 Comment
There sure is dread in the front of the poem, despite the reason for being so left poetically obscure. Just like the news, you don’t have to know the details to feel the pain.
Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:
You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. ( Log Out / Change )
You are commenting using your Twitter account. ( Log Out / Change )
You are commenting using your Facebook account. ( Log Out / Change )
You are commenting using your Google+ account. ( Log Out / Change )
Connecting to %s
Notify me of new comments via email.
Blog at WordPress.com.