Mary’s Meditation
The world’s aged sunlight mottles my son’s tombstone in tarnished, dusty gold. I sit beside the cavern of rock where he lies. I stroke the cold, rough surface. I finger the damp, dead grass. I…
Day: May 22, 2015
The world’s aged sunlight mottles my son’s tombstone in tarnished, dusty gold. I sit beside the cavern of rock where he lies. I stroke the cold, rough surface. I finger the damp, dead grass. I…
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