The Hawk Basement

Yesterday I painted A Star
My Red Star
on the concrete wall
of My Husband’s unfinished Library —
He let Me do it and only
worried that His Books might smell
of spray paint
but They’re OK this morning —
This Morning when I thought:
“I’ll go down there to put
little knobs, globs of red
on the ends of The Star –”
but My Red Star is Not
a cutesy-poo Snowman Star
My Red Star Has No Endings

My Red Star gleams for People
like My Husband’s Daughter
Who’s had an “untimely” X Miss

My Red Star lasers Those in Grief
Who Miss & Miss & Miss

My Red Star glows for The Sick
& Dying
Who may not know Where
They are going or what
Their Pain might be telling Them

My Red Star sparkles for Children
Born & Unborn
Who must listen to Adults
Adults’ Tricks
& My Red Star signals Those Adults
Who Trick Themselves

My Red Star
Is Painted For Me

Joanna Hyde
December 26th 2011  The Hawk
10:52am

2 comments

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