Dear ones, might a sign appear, if only a shard?
Even if sheered from nothing, a shard.
50 days slipped safely past
you who have disappeared—bequeath a shard.
Wherever you flew, wherever you fell
Dear lost ones, just a shard.
Your spectral lines, your memories, even your
fear clinging somewhere. However sharp, a shard.
Do you remember us?
We wait here. Even for a shard.
Connecting to a culture by traveling the world's shops, markets and global recipes
A Personal Collection of Blogs
Poetry, story and real life. Once soldier, busnessman, grandfather and Poet.
imagination is the key
Brian Marggraf, Author of Dream Brother: A Novel, Independent publishing advocate, New York City dweller
A topnotch WordPress.com site
by po'E.T. and the colors of pi
Beyond The Tetralemma
I want my life to be composed of first times
Part time actor, aspiring writer of poetry and prose and full-time idiot with a heart.
"You have to let your soul wander"
Musings On Life and Other Minutiae
Words of Wonder, Worry and Whimsy
Semantics of life.....
This site is a compilation of poetic pieces written under the influence of life,pain, and good energy
what if poems could be symphonies, and people their orchestra?
Rose Auslander 
Wow, Rose .. this is one of my favorites too. I love your choice of “shard”.
Two hundred and thirty-nine cuts
grow deeper every day
as we find planetary
bodies out in space
but not one trace
of you.
Debbie. “Two hundred and thirty-nine cuts / grow deeper every day.” Thank you.