SOMETIMES ON EARTH WE ARE MADE TO FEEL

 

SOMETIMES ON EARTH WE ARE MADE TO FEEL

Sometimes on earth we are made to feel

We are no longer counted

Among the living

Like the homeless, tagged like migrating birds

So the census takers can remember

Which of them has not departed yet

Like frozen sparrows

To whom may be given still

On occasion

Some socks, a blanket

Some peanut butter sandwiches

All that could be wished for

Except a home

I have heard

Music in the still of night lamenting

But the working days arise

And the corners shine

From which they are asked to move on

On each corner invisible angels cry

heedlessly into ruby trumpets

beyond our ken.

Perhaps a portal in the sun will open

And they will live there.

Eating pomegranates like those in ancient myths.

mary angela douglas 12 march 2024