the robin's egg blue you held in your hands
has slipped like a meaning
you don't understand.
and I will whirl all on my own
in the satin of the snow air
caroled the little girl
not trying to be anyone at all.
and the quartz moon you
unwrapped at Christmas
was beyond a surprise
she whispered to the clouds
to God of the carmine sunsets
of the evergreen wilds.
mary angela douglas 2 december 2013
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