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when I am older
my heart will be steel-grey but it will not be made of stone I will not be weighed down I have always been weighed down and though I lose the use of my legs or the sight of my eyes or the taste for spiciness and bitter-sweet I hope I will not ever lose the center of me for there is my compass and my guide some may think me withered fragile no longer wild inside a Grandma though I have no child a wounded bird with a half-footed hop a grouse no longer dancing a hummingbird with moth-eaten wings and an owl who no longer sees into the darkness my heart is cotton-candy my heart is dappled-clouds my heart is toes dug in the sand and my heart is barefoot-proud my heart is full of promise though I found little of it when I was young my heart is full and The Spirit knows only when my time will come my heart knows my time is too short my heart knows pangs of respite and grief my heart knows of green Springs and sadly of the floating brown-tinged leaf. LEGAL COPYRIGHT FOR THIS POEM WRITTEN DIRECTLY TO THE PAGE ON 3/30/2021 12:35 pm PACIFIC STANDARD TIME....TIME AND DATE STAMPED AND ALSO FOR THIS POET MELISSA A. HOWELLS AND ALSO FOR THIS LEGALLY COPYRIGHTED POETRY SITE... MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD.... FOR THOSE WHOSE HEARTS LIVE IN SPRING...I DEDICATE THIS TO YOU. (AND ME.) Vote for this poem |
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