Posted in Gracie's Glimmer, Poetry From A Woman Who Thinks Too Much

Two…

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Every evening two broken women

Stumbled down a lonesome road

Passing each other on their way home

Silent, not a single word was spoken

Strangers they might have stayed

But one night the wind was howling

The lightening was crackling white

The black thunder roared

The icy rain drops pelted the ground

Beneath an old bridge they huddled

Two broken women hunkered down

Waiting for the storm to pass their town.

4 thoughts on “Two…

  1. What a perfect ending Jeanne Marie. I love this poem. My daughter once told me, as a very young child, “there are no strangers in the world, there are only people who haven’t met.” Out of the mouths of babes.

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