– Rosemary, my mother’s sister –
That all our small wishes and dreams
be driven from the stage
like sand before the storm.
Should we hold the echos or
let them go?
I feel grief when I read this child’s card,
whose dead forty years,
when she writes
she’ll be home soon
in a child’s scrawl.
Barely done … and when I drop the card
washed away forever.
I threw the card away three times
and took it back again.
12 Mar 1983
San Juan Capistrano
— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —
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