Katerina Anghelaki Rooke, Selected Poems

Three Poems About Sorrow


People with age resemble stones

less sculptured

more and more of faded color.

Passing by among them

I get emotional as long as

I can help finish my day.

I pass, I hardly touch anything;

only the birds get startled

by the movement and

fly away to the blue.

I survive in compassion

dreams give me shivers

I feel numb.

And all my plans

turn into reality

what little choice I have

when I think of all

the shapes spring takes

all the possibilities of my birth

with little imagination!  



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