April Collage: Line three, 2013

Not feeling very creative, so I went to old April poems and took the third line from a bunch of them and this happened:



Coated with wax and buried, 

I have the power to heal others.


I’ve only just learned to be

driven to and fro by words and noise.


Don’t come lugging that bag. 

My mind is a jumper of passion and power—


not bad for a woman my age.

My hair, my fingertips


are ready with yellow flowers,

clouds in their colors:  yellow, purple, blue, gray.


I found another wad of wax under my armrest.

I contain you.

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