by Dretta Grace White
And if the stars fail us
What becomes us then
My darling ones
What becomes us now
A song
A psalm
The unfolding line
A rhyme
Tales of sorrow so swiftly said
The heart beats once
Twice
Or none
What becomes us
My darling ones
What keeps us here
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My wife and I are “for the birds” [yes, we are birdwatchers] and have long noted how often someone “in the field” has a birdie name like Robin. Same hold true in other lines of work and pursuits. This is so with this true poet. And her name is a match. Just say it out loud, slowly. Dretta… Grace…White. Lyrical, yes? When I go to GSR and see a Dretta Grace White poem, already I know I am in for a treat. Dretta once more shows us all that a poem is.
Neal Whitman,
Amicus poeticae,