The Moon At My Window For Free Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

sent on a mission to mars and afraid of heights

would I conquer my fear if not the Martians

mending my parachute year to year

having barely mastered sewing on buttons

of a silver, a milky hue like light streaming through

whatever place I was dreaming in at the time.

I practiced gliding in my room in my bright shoes

while reading the news and counting down the days.

but no one was buying it.

who am I to sell moonlight in a jar

red rocks from a distant star

but keep in mind

others went out to the gold mines on a whim

and found nothing then

but empty pockets nights of no diamond sleeping.

I hope to write no resume someday

to live on a planet where this is not required

to define why I should be paid by the hour

when I have Mystery, the moon at my window

for free and all the pearl glorias

singing inside me.

mary angela douglas 28 july 2019