Eclipse of the Moon by Mary Susanah Robbins - HTML preview

To My Sister Marcia

What I owe

you is more

telling than

three pieces of silver

dropped on a rainy

night between hands,

slipped through,

all lost, nothing

found save

ancience, that glimmer

of immortality, more worn

than the dirt in a coin.

Save silver, rescue

mortality out of

richness, a glimmer

of immortality

on a rainy night

between hands.

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