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A Poem: Precious Stones; Observing Virginia Wolfe 

She had chosen stones
Their weight
Perfect

She did not speak
Of the waters embrace
The coolness—the ease in which her
Steps would take her

She did not fear
The water’s edge
The tender darkness and sweet song

She hid her own song
Upon the shore where she dearly placed it

She had sewn precious stones
Within the folds of her gown
She wore lavender; the color of patience.

Speaking of...

  • A poem by Barbara Threecrow Purcell.

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