what shall I do with my heart made of pink paper
pink wrapping paper over a kite frame it flies
as if it wanted to drift with pink clouds toward Heaven
as if its pinkness qualified it to be in that flock
the clouds know better and the rose billed egrets
they are more unfettered
goodbye clouds my pink kite heart sighs coming down
in the rosebeds or
in a pale green meadow because that is the way we
wanted to make our poem like a picture book story
it lands softly, my heart. it misses the clouds already
the might have been of the egrets
but we have to buy groceries now so I reeled it in
I being in this case, my mind or is it my will
or something else that likes gravy and mashed potatoes
but chooses sweet potatoes frozen instead.
ah well that's enough said.
one birthday morning we will rise
my heart and I on quite the rosy day
flinging the string to the ground
able at least to reach the ozone
and at last, God.
who has watched our progress with interest
past the seed pearls of the stars
he has scattered graciously
to light our way.
mary angela douglas 20 november 2020
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