My Limbs Are Hanging Useless

Here’s a poem that Gracie over at Wild Grace wrote in response to my post yesterday on Grief on the Heels of Grief:

I hear the lion roaring
My face is in his mane
Limbs are hanging useless
And eyes are filled with pain
The tears have flowed
And stained his coat
My fists have beat his chest
And though he has not drawn a claw
I hear the lion roar

Thanks Gracie!