Saturday, October 30, 2010

Coming Late to Grace

Unseen and unrecognized,
Grace always come through
and I see it
only afterwards
with the certainty
of the one who's read
the ending
of the book

Saturday, October 16, 2010

At forty-nine, I'm one again
hands clenched tightly
on my lap
pretending no one notices
I look 'round
to see
what is expected
trying
to learn
the language
trying--
guessing
at
normal
This time
only FEELING
bald
Poems © Gemma W. Wilson