Three of us sat
in the early summer, our instruments
cared for, our bodies dark
and one stirred the stones on
the earthen platter, till the salt
veins aligned, and she read the cast:
Whatever is past
and has come to an end
cannot be brought back by sorrow.
(From "Triple Muse" by Olga Broumas, Beginning with O)
4 comments:
Whatever is past
and has come to an end
cannot be brought back by sorrow.
That hits very close to home. Beautiful poem.
"Whatever is past
and has come to an end
cannot be brought back by sorrow."
This line is one of those strings of words that touches on deep truth. It is certainly something I need to remember on a daily basis.
Mama Kelly
Good Goddess, that certainly hit home today. Thanks.
How beautiful ... how true. I'm touched.
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