its hard to be small when your thoughts are like the whole sky
to be that insignificant and yet to live and die for the beauty of all things
rose and rose leaf both, a ripple in the wind
the water mirrors each winged thing
and then you sing and ponder your philosophies.
you who could drift away on the slightest evening breeze be carried
never seen or heard from again in the harrying world that barely knows you're there
who would miss you who ever even saw you beneath the dock leaf sheltering from the rain
where one drop, a flood
could end your reign.
mary angela douglas 28 september 2021
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