Tiny stars and dotted prisms
Glitter on burgundy spheres,
With mint so bright it sears
Like Eucharist at catechisms.
Twisted colors melt and down;
Thoughts collide, chartering about
Until gossamer wings sprout,
So you can lift from the ground.
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February 27, 2009 at 10:56 am
We’re thinking of you faemom! Hope all is proceeding well. I miss you
February 27, 2009 at 6:51 pm
I love the style and the density of image in this poem.
(And yeah, we miss you and hope you’re doing well!)
February 27, 2009 at 9:40 pm
Wait, now I have to scroll back and find out where you have gone? I loved this by the way, so very precious in this haunting sort of way.
March 2, 2009 at 1:39 pm
KathyB!~ You make my day!
Ink~ Thank you! Thank you!
Court~ Thanks! Don’t you hate when you stop reading a blog and get lost. Oh, wait, I guess that’s what I’ll face this week!