I feed my sorrow
I feed my sorrow spinach
I feed my sorrow eggs
I feed my sorrow sunflowers
I feed my sorrow was written by the poet Mary Rueffle.
Always on the search for the quintessential writing prompt
this stanza filled the bill.
Sassy always feeds her sorrow with skeins of colorful
yarn configured in ever changing patterns always in
the hope that discernment will follow.
2 comments:
I love it!
Sorrow, may it be fleeting. Keep knitting.
may sorrow fly past at long last
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