Your Paths Grew Strange You Became Poem by Miroslava Odalovic

Your Paths Grew Strange You Became



Sad sagacious runaway legs frozen to the stone
The stone time testimony carved
Grey hairs each moment drowned in just one night
Stood still you watched them
The way they sold the mothers down the road
Their skirts their dresses their blouses
Their ribbons their hair their cuts
Down the children’s cry you cried
The way they sold the fathers
Those fathers of food those fathers of cherish
Their coats their shirts their boots
Their heart their lungs their eyes their cuts
Down the children’s cry you cried
‘I could have died of sorrow
But still could see but still could believe
There’s a wound and there’s a heart
There’s a healing as well
Sweet balm pouring down those drops of pain to soothe

©Miroslava Odalović

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