Sun and Poinsettias

a poem of memory and hope

A. Christine Myers

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poinsettias, image © the author

I remember the sun when I was small,
The white door, birch trees, grass and all,
Poinsettias just outside my wall.
I remember the bright poinsettias’ red.

If there is aught can make amends
For the loss of half a life, God send
The sun I remember till my days end,
The sun on the bright poinsettias’ red.

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