we are all broken under starlight-
threading ourselves through mazes not
always of our own creation-
or through needles when the thread
knots up and snaps off unexpectedly-
marshaling ourselves with an
ancient carnival soundtrack
against so much indifference;
burning out too early-
rising again in some other sky
where the census takers
won't be so oblivious.
\mary angela douglas 18 february 2005; 28 september 2023
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem