when I am lost like the stray puzzle piece from the jigsaw
so that I want to climb back into some sky blue preexistence of the Soul
as if that would be possible and hide among the roses there
or in some unclocked in eternal glaze of the evergreen shade
take refuge near the silver of the winter sun
in the drifts between school days and beyond the accountable
and all homework, dream
till I see the gleam of your stars Lord when you set them there
before all tarnishing
let me stay only a little longer in the twilight of all Mays
cast in my blue shadows or in the rose period remembering
fresh chalk and the pastels from the tin unused
knowing the pink blur between the green hills
had to be the rising, not the setting sun.
mary angela douglas 28, 29 august 2021
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