Grit
Memories of men
who left me behind
in their wake
lay wedged
in my heart as grit,
emerging
in my maturity
as pearls.
I cradle those memories
carefully, lest I forget
the transmuting
value of grit.
Pris Campbell
(c)12/05/2001
revised 2003Music: Homage to Paul Borges by Cisneros
