11 september 2021
Behind The Glass
I will write a very
soft poem for you today.
Moon had promised
to standby.
You cannot stay outside
your lips. They were frozen.
I will trap a ray of light
when you fall in a pit.
Such aplomb. I must
give you a gift of an Ariel.
Come equinox, I will wait
for the harvest moon.
The pure hymns. I
turn my gold ring for a miracle.
The scars were singing again.
Out of reach, a star winks.
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Anthony DiMichele