Small White Stones Poem by Mary Angela Douglas
Small White Stones
children learn to tell themselves small stories
so that the sun is always out at night
or falling down a well they remember
nursery rhymes, counting songs
the beautiful sudden ray of light
falling down the shaft
and afterwards.
we grow up.
still needing little stories.
in the plum coloured darkness,
tracing the way back home
with the small, white stones.
mary angela douglas 30 december 2016
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/21/2024 10:29:10 AM # 1.0.0.1119
