I had a dream of the sun
and an orange crayon
an orange so bright it was almost subtropical
an orange to outorange whole groves
that colour I painted it
and I know
no eclipse will ever encroach
its honeycomb hivedness
its liveliness
and in a shoebox with magenta tissue
I kept it all winter long
and here it is dispelling darkness
in my song.
mary angela douglas 26 november 2023
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem