Mary
from her cottage
full
looks down
the Cassy water's
rill and
thinks of
sons and
daughters
gone
away
across
beyond
the seas
and when
at night
her youngest born
sucks from
her breast
a love
forlorn
that wanders
O
she wonders
when
the light
down on
the foreshore
bleak
will bring
her people
home
just
home
Ditto Lori's comment. It's too bad that there's no way to hear poems like this read on this site. The ache for returning family so simply put, yet it has all the complexity of the human heart and the desire within it.
~Chelle~
