Tiny Sparrows
There are miracles
in my life that never
cease...
I swaddled them
pink and white -
attached them
to milky breasts
and nursed them
full and fat...
Small miracles
that grew too fast -
distant, stubborn,
spoiled and raw
Tiny sparrows
that broke their wings
to fly from home, but
they are miracles
none the less...
And wearily
I must confess
these are the miracles
of my flesh -
grandmother's
and mother's bones
They formed
a lake of tears
and pools of laughter
became the pillars
of my strength
My land of miracles
that never cease
and never cease
to amaze me
Deborah Russell
Fort Collins, Colorado
03-23-05
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