They fall across the cobbled square—
Not ghosts, but faith we used to wear.
Each stone a prayer not yet undone,
Each silence shaped by setting sun.
From A Poem A Day: All Continental Europe
They fall across the cobbled square—
Not ghosts, but faith we used to wear.
Each stone a prayer not yet undone,
Each silence shaped by setting sun.
From A Poem A Day: All Continental Europe
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