Poem to a friend
Paula
trods
With pollywogs
And packyderms
Her dermis, near the dirt
And though the Paraclete
Lives in her heart,
Don’t look for her to sail
Like a dove into the sun …
No …. she’s an earth bound saint
Feet firmly planted
On the sod,
Heart next to God
In the everyday.
Ordinary,
When it comes
To love, and sense, and service –
Ain’t


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