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In Broad Daylight
I take my rage to the river.
A heron flies into the wind.
I let myself be opened
by the great gray wings
and the great gray sky
and the great gray largeness of water,
not to rid myself of rage,
but to become a clearer channel
so I can meet the chest-scouring,
scab-clawing, cell-screaming,
throat-burning fury of rage
and remind my heart I can
know all this rage, can be
feral with rage, and still
keep on loving the world.
~~
After I Fell in the Canyon of Grief
we discover that falling in the canyon is our initiation
—Mark Nepo
I didn’t land. I fell and I fell and I fell.
At first as I plummeted, I feared the landing,
imagining an imminent crash. Then,
I fell through nights and middays. Fell through
kitchen floors and highways. Fell through
birthdays and Saturdays. Fell until the sense
of groundlessness was so familiar it no longer
felt like peril. I don’t know when I stopped falling.
There was no splat. No splash. No crushing of bones.
No sense of arrival. In fact, I am not certain
I am done with my falling. But I do trust now
the falling is not something to be feared.
Not that we grow wings. This is not about flying.
It’s about falling. About meeting the gravity
and feeling its force and letting it carry me
in ways I have never before let myself be carried.
Now I trust that the canyon of grief is
just another name for living the fullest life.
The reward for the falling is to no longer
expect a reward. The reward of falling is to
learn to not resist the falling. The reward of falling
is to feel how grace falls with us as if holding
our hand, like a teacher, like a friend.
~~~~~
Copyright 2026 Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer

Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer is a poet, teacher, speaker, writing facilitator, and poet laureate of Evermore. Her poems have appeared on A Prairie Home Companion, PBS News Hour, O Magazine, Washington Post’s Book Club, and Carnegie Hall stage. Her newest book is The Unfolding. Newest album: Risking Love. One-word mantra: Adjust.
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Astonishingly beautiful, as always, Rosemerry.
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’and still keep on loving the world.’
A beautiful poem with a beautiful message.
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‘And still keep on loving the world’
A beautiful poem.
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Absolutely wonderful.
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Oh, thank you Rosemerry. These poems and images feed my courage – to trust (even) the rage, to trust the falling, to trust the falling apart. My heart needed this.
Love, Karly
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thank you, beautiful Karly … yeaaaahhhhhh … trusting even the rage …
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Oh dear Rosemerry, thank you for both of these poems and how they converse with each other. Thank you for showing us how we do not have to fear our rage, or our falling, how important it is to continue loving the world even when we feel rage, even when we are falling. I know I am not done with my falling. Thank you and your words for helping me trust the fall. You speak so much wisdom
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I love you so crazy much, dear Paula … and all the ways you love the world and trust the fall … loving and trusting and falling with you, love
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Oh dear Rosemerry, thank you for both of these poems and how they converse with each other. Thank you for showing us how we do not have to fear our rage, or our falling, how important it is to continue loving the world even when we feel rage, even when we are falling. I know I am not done with my falling. Thank you and your words for helping me trust the fall. You speak so much wisdom
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🌪️🌫️ ❤️🩹 ✨ 🕉️ 🤍 💦💫
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OK, Thank You, then, Rosemerry. I would like to endorse -‘keep on loving the world…’and keep on being a Portal for the entry of love into the world. And the reward could be -‘Oh, brave new world that has such people in it’.
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Yes to being such a portal … yes to this brave new world …
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Thank you
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Thank you, Barbara ❤️
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Oh, “In Board Daylight” will be a poem I carry around with me. Much needed.
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Thank you, Dick ❤️
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I teach a short story, The Day Editors,” in which openly grieving is illegal. Rather, there are seclusion cells, where one is allowed three minutes crying time to mourn a lost loved one. After I Fell reminds us to avoid such self-imposed cells; that sadness is freedom, too, and often must be wielded as such, like growing wings.
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beautiful comment, Matt. Thank you.
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ooooh, yes, sadness is freedom, too. yes.
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Laure-Anne said it all. Yes, two poems to fall into and just trust. “Not that we grow wings. This is not about flying. It’s about falling. About meeting the gravity and feeling its force and letting it carry me in ways I have never before let myself be carried.”
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Thank you, Rosemary, for falling into that trust with me. ❤️
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Rage and grief. Two situations always shoving us into fury and loss. But Rosemerry heals with her poems here on both. Musical chants that speak a deep truth.
As she writes:
Now I trust that the canyon of grief is
just another name for living the fullest life.
Those two lines help me to creatively carry on with their healing spirit, or at least leading down to the sweetwater river aflow at the bottom of life’s canyons.
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I love your wisdom, Jim.
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So beautifully said, Jim, thank you.
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Lessons on survival! Thank you, Rosemary! Just beautiful!
“/The reward of falling
is to feel how grace falls with us as if holding
our hand, like a teacher, like a friend.”
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Thank you, friend. ❤️
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Two wonderful poets wonderful humans, wonderful poems. The world is richer for their presence.
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Thank you, dear Donna ❤️
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Stunning as always. The river knows what do with our rage, the river is a great teacher. Thank you habibi for these poems ❤
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Thank you, beloved Moudi … oh the river is such a good teacher. Always.
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Rosemerry: On the subject of Falling—
One Heart by Li-Young Lee:
Look at the birds. Even flying is born
out of nothing. The first sky is inside you, open
at either end of day.
The work of wings
was always freedom, fastening one heart to every falling
—your poems and your thoughts: Always lovely!
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🤍🤍🤍
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Yes! Thank you … I love this poem, too … here’s to the sky within and without!
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Rosemerry is a wise woman of our times, showing us that we “can be feral with rage, and still / keep on loving the world”, and that falling is part of living, that “the canyon of grief is / just another name for living the fullest life”. How these poems carry me in dark times!
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Awwww, thank you, dear Jan. ❤️❤️❤️❤️
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Rosemerry is such a healing poet. When I find myself unable to hold myself up in the chaos of this terrible war, I turn to her poetry and she reminds me of my humanity and how okay it is to falter sometimes, that one can get up, go on, with poetry in one’s mind and not missiles.
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Thank you, dear Noelle. Oh friend, I am sending you love across the ocean. Yours in the faltering, in the getting back up
❤️
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Both of these touched me deeply. Rosemerry is a skilled poet and I’m always drawn to her work. Thank you for sharing these, Michael.
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Thanks, Jan. I’m drawn to Rosemerry’s poems for their healing quality. This is very old magic, going back to a time when songs and incantations were necessary parts of a wise woman’s work.
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I agree with you, Michael, this is a wise, consoling voice we recognize and trust — a deeply human one that carries such grief and sorrow, but also a profound patience and kind, accepting humanity we need to hear. Be patient, be attentive, listen, look, don’t forget all the beauty not only around you, but the one in and of you, she says. And we feel a tad lighter, closer, relieved and consoled by what (& how!) she invites us to love, let go of, or accept. Whether weak or strong, whether we rage or praise, her poems allow us this space, and I love them and her for that.
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What a beautiful response, Laure-Anne. Thank you.
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Perfectly expressed Laure-Anne. I feel similarly drawn to your work as well.
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Oh beautiful friend, thank you for these words and for speaking to that space … love love love to you across the country
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Thank you, Jan ❤️
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