Poetry Challenge: 365 days–Day 4

I’ve made it 4 days. It’s a miracle. More like it’s a miracle I’ve remembered to do something for myself 4 days in a row. That, dear readers, is progress.

:::

She slipped away while I held her cool, withered and gray hand
Sun was rising in the East against the wishes of the stars
Her legacy would endure, each moment like grains of sand.
Longing for a sight of her, hearing her voice in faraway corners.

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