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Tiny Sparrows
by Deborah Russell
There are miracles
in my life that never
cease...
I swaddled them
pink and white -
attached them
to milky breasts
and nursed them
full and fat...
Small miracles
that grew too fast -
distant, stubborn,
spoiled and raw
Tiny sparrows
that broke their wings
to fly from home, but
they are miracles
none the less...
and wearily
I must confess
these are the miracles
of my flesh -
grandmother's
and mother's bones
They formed
a lake of tears
and pools of laughter
became the pillars
of my strength
My land of miracles
that never cease
and never cease
to amaze me
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