I had a golden necklace.
this was flowers.
the light through light rain.
the jeweled bird flown.
I had a mist called home.
and honey, on the table;
a summer brimmed over.
this was buttered bread.
a kind word said.
this was stars; or braided clover
then, Christmastide,
the heralds. the damson sky.
the last beaded rainbow
on the pane of "goodbye".
mary angela douglas 8 april 2019
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