setting off fireworks word after word
hoping like anything some are heard
some will turn to kaleidoscopes blazing
some will be duds
burning out in the summer mud, the grass
when all has passed you will have tried
in one brief span to live and die
to illuminate or illustrate
the earth and skies in your original handwriting
to launch your sorrow into the air
so brightly coloured it wasn't despair,
but love, pure love, in the end.
mary angela douglas 4 january 2022
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