Mike, I like, but here
though she said herself she had never again smiled
the had a bump, she never again smiled seems enough
and the rhyme below weak to me
though her passage through life had been solitary.
And when she died, in a country remote from her
daughter´s grave, the shawl, her lover´s last gift to her
Smiles.
Gary
Writer's Hood, the best poetry on the web, at http://www.writershood.com/
Poets for Peace.... ¡Poemas sí, balas no!
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