Two Small Stones
There is a favorite place I go,
Where stories long forgotten
Are there for me to know.
And there in sunken silence lay,
Stones of children who lived for but a day.
A carving of angles over each stone,
Believed to escort to their heavenly home.
And they departed, the stones remain,
And I sense how they loved them as a soft refrain.
Copyright © George Leblanc | Year Posted 2017
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