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Touch the western wall for me

By Bessie F. Collins / April 26, 1982



I bade you -- Touch the western wall for me, And all the hosts Of which I am a sum; For fine-ground dust That cannot touch or see, Touch tenderly, Touch reverently; For multitudes Denied this grace, By time and circumstance And place; By sword, by flame; For innocents who praised With final breath, His Name. This you did. For me, for those who cannot Touch or see or hear; To find, cupped like a gem Within your hand, A fallen fragment, Like an ancient tear.

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