he made the road appear as if it had always been there
though we knew without him it would have been overgrown
it would have been wilderness by now.
who knew that little boy would turn out to be
the one that captured the sun.
an Icarus who failed not.
let it forever be his birthday
let his picture be painted in an apocryphal way
with pink clouds
a dinosaur smiling in one corner, reduced in size
not to scare the children TOO much.
let the jack o lanterns grin
let there always be porch swings, cider
long afternoons and the leaves painted green
reflecting on everything
the breeze of summer morning
insistently, the clarion call.
of us all.
mary angela douglas 25 march 2020
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