there is a bruise in the sky
the small stars sing to
above the grape arbor
where the Elephant Man hides
from sorrow and his shadows
are purple too and not as lumpy
the tears caught in his throat
and the Elephant Man is riding
or he hopes to the silver horse
of his dreams and he is elegant
and flowing as the wind as the wind
through the grape arbor and the bruise in the
sky is not larger than his own and it is
widening like a purple stain on the universe
of sighs of negligence of misplaced laughter
little stars will encircle him by and by
the little stars will come
and leaven the leaven
for the Elephant Man in the grape arbor
hidden and unbidden except by God
except by God
on earth as it is in Heaven
mary angela douglas 10 march 2014
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