she colors the night

my witness my liege
in a leotard her regard
for carrots in the broth
she is my brotherly bard
my mushroom & barley soup
like a shooting star she colors the night
ablaze across a perplexed sky
to shed her light to find her way
as Heaven helps her gather strength
a courier at best
a message to impart
there is a God
protecting the poised pretty persona
a personality as big as California
no worries Amy-I adore ya
the door is half open half closed
like yr favorite Greta Garbo-I vant to be alone-sometimes-
sometimes it seems the autumn skies are angry
but in truth fair Montague putting u up on a pedestal
is hurtful and imaginary-a canary in a cage-a book
without a page-I’m so happy you engage this endless
rage I seem to wage in this untimely age we embark-in an equal playing
field across the east end
We need not pretend at all
it is
the compassion that heals the hurt
it is a labor of love.