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Kathleen

Kathleen My name is hers. Sort of. Similar yet different because I am. Altered, this strong Irish name for a weak Sicilian nonna. Heart it was. Children’s laughter killed her, roared his grief. They grew with guilt. I, inherited the heart but I am not weak with this strong Irish name. Laughter is medicinal. I live past her years.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2015




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Book: Shattered Sighs