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Maybe tomorrow, I will try
to read the language of stones;
to find the meaning
in the placement
of slabs of granite
cut and stitched
beneath my feet.

I will learn to translate
cracks and spaces
and gather clues
from sprigs of maroon clover
pushing through the mortar
which has failed to
hold these stories

all images by Marsha Rosenzweig Pincus 2011

Marsha Pincus is a post-mid life woman, riding the Age Wave and writing for her life.

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