I cried those words,
into puddling paragraphs,
just spilling sentences,
tripping on my tongue,
into rapidly coursing chapters,
pulsating pages,
fast moving meter,
in rivers of rhymes,
stacks of biblical books,
etched in my mind,
carved by hand,
on my life's headstone,
made of bethel gray granite,
to read :    Here lies a poet.
                
Ma Cherie © 2017