wounded – Robin’s Nest

First Memory

by Louise Gluck Long ago, I was wounded. I livedto revenge myselfagainst my father, notfor what he was -for what I was from the beginning of time,in childhood, I thoughtthat pain meantI was not loved.I was loved.

Tiny Feet

by Gabriela Mistral 1889-1957 A child’s tiny feet, Blue, blue with cold, How can they see and not protect you? Oh, my God! Tiny wounded feet, Bruised all over by pebbles, Abused by snow and soil! Man being blind, ignores That where you step you leave A blossom of bright light, That where you haveContinue reading “Tiny Feet”