Old Wine Poem by Carolyn Brunelle
Old Wine
When I am
an old woman
I shall take my rest;
gather all my days
to my bosom
to warm my bones
in coldness of years.
There will be peace
to fill any holes
left by regret
and bubbles of joy
shall arise in my soul
as these waters
are changed to wine.
Saturday, October 22, 2011
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5/10/2024 5:39:41 PM # 1.0.0.1119
