Mom had great fun in the late 1960s early 1970s with her poetry group, The Rimers of Tucson, Arizona. She was the youngest of the group, and I don’t think any of those folks are alive anymore. One special lady from that pack of poets was Lucy Faull, from whom I inherited my middle name. Here’s a poem Mom wrote for Lucy:
LUCY FAULL
Strong
And sure
Her words come
Through. Echoing
Stars that shone for you.
Treading paths alone and
New. Celebrating, fasting,
Feasting, living every moment–
Do you see a rose pushing through snow?
That’s how Lucy’s spirit is sure to go.
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