Fitting Nowhere I Hang From A Star

fitting nowhere I hang from a star

and listen to Jiminy Cricket in my head

in a sweet voice rasp hang on

though i couldn't chin myself beyond the count of two

when I was in jr. high school

fitting nowhere I hung from a star

I'll publish myself in a blizzard

so no one will be any the wiser

all things being equal in the storm

(but not in the Sturm und Drang ad infinitum

of the new millennium)

the general glitter of the entire field revealing nothing, really;

but the cherishing of a private music loved.

visible to only God and the Dove.

to bend and not to yield Tennyson's Ulysses shone

and did not rust in age

I'm somewhat smaller on  the page

but I can glisten too.

mary angela douglas 24 september 2021