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(Gerald Schmitz photo)


Stone of Remembrance

The stone of grief
settled in my heart
with edges so rough and sharp
they cut each time I moved.
All I could do was cry
as life dragged me on.
Days turned to weeks,
weeks into years,
slowly, bit by bit,
the sharp edges wore away.
Life buffed the roughness,
turning the jagged rock
into a smooth stone of remembrance.

By Marilyn Paul