Trudy lived
with the ghosts of Authors,
Effortlessly
reciting each memorized page…
Sharing
their words with all listeners,
Her very
presence, their venue, their stage.
She lived
with an army of Angels,
Reaching out
to help others cope,
Fighting the
world’s injustices,
Debating
always, the pro side of hope.
Her life, a quest for Answers,
Solutions
given and remedies sought…
To create a
more humane, peaceful world
Where
political power was earned, not bought.
We still
think of urgent topics,
Though the
discussions may never start…
Trudy’s gift
to us, her time and intellect,
But her
actual presence was her art.
My friend
now lives in the cosmos.
Petite on
Earth, she now stands tall;
Her
intellectual idols, all a gasp,
Realizing their
universe, way too small.
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