beautiful weathervane well to some you are
spinning in season or out in an orchard breeze or
riffing the cyclone merrily never at ease.
not all the sunset ships will sail to where you are;
though blinding, the sun blinds more when sparkling from you:
sparks my mind
on the small ground.
Christmas now. the first snows, gathered lace around your
green metal gauging is it this way is it that and
it's far you are from the Magi in the hour
love like the Star should come to rest.
you never do.
mary angela douglas 23 december 2014
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