Comforter
Because it was my heart, I made a corner for it
in the apartment,
on an old folded comforter, green, freckled
with flowers.
I could not believe my heart
would mistake the comforter
for a true field,
but hoped that it would sense
the summers overspread, the words
there read–children’s stories
where good prevails
though something much loved
is lost,
and so my heart lay,
quivering at times, still, at times, cold.
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Another poem for Kerry O’Connor’s Sunday mini challenge (though longer than ten lines) on “because it was my heart” (though a bit longer than mini) and also for Real Toads open platform. Weird pic mine. All rights reserved.
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