Daily poem: Terza Rima stanza 15

 

And white clouds billow after stormy skies.

But every little death is still a loss,

and we can join the mother when she cries.

Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

8 thoughts on “Daily poem: Terza Rima stanza 15”

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