HALO - Poem

HALO

(Copyright 2016 by Dave Kiffer)

 

She loved the gloriole,

Reminding us that her mother

Had seen one just before labor,

That she had risen from the couch

To go outside in the sun

And that her water had broken.

 

She also loved the rainbows

That came when the clouds did not,

Rarely, yes, but often enough

To leave colored memories

To melt the gray sky days

Into moments softly passing.

 

Perhaps it was the finiteness

Of the rainbows, the beginning,

Middle and end, the story arc

Soaring from ground to sky

And back again, like a love story

Which she also loved.

 

                                    And yet she

Clearly preferred the circle

Of the sky dogs, the tail chasing

Halos ringing the evening suns,

Inevitably announcing the rain

That colored her happiest tears.

 


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