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|Reviewed by Ian Thorpe
your lives slip through my trembling fingers/ like grains of sand
/leaving me alone in the prairie of desertion...
You need a bit of Blake sweetie "to see the world in a grain of sand/or heaven in a wildflower/to hold eternity in the palm of your hand/or infinity in an hour.
Your poem is beautifully wistful and soaked with yearning but check out William Blake's "Book Of Thel" and you will find we are never alone. The lines above BTW are from Auguries of Innocence by the same poet. Find his work at Bartleby.com
|Reviewed by Mr. Ed
|Very powerfully penned, Candida; being left behind can truly be a devastating experience.|
|Reviewed by Mary Lynn Plaisance
|Lovely! My Mom felt that deep hurt when my Dad passed away. Then all of her friends passed before her, and there was so much lonliness for her, that it was for me to bear seeing her this way!
Mary Lynn Plaisance