oh tiny country
built to scale
once you were writ large;
now you're a favorite charm
on a charm bracelet shaken
by infinitesimal barley breezes
or if someone sneezes
setting off alarms
in my heart for you
I will stand guard in
my nonentity
since I love it goes without saying
your amethyst ant hills,still.
your small pears' windfall
in a golden heap
disturbs the sleep of gnats
and I long to kick
all your toy barricades down
knowing God is the owner of
the Great and minuscule
and how have you withered, then from
what He had made?
but I remember, once, the sheer
undulating and the free
emerald of your plains
sustained my childlike song and not
the woe and weal of these your
roped in
ripped off
fields, your fields, your fields
mary angela douglas 15 october 2013
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