Monday, June 18, 2007


Another poem from Myra Sharpiro's Class:


I could be in Belhaven
singing hymns, gathering brown eggs
and looking collard greens.

I could be spoiling grandbabies
while their mama works at Toppin’s
making pure pork country sausage.

I could be Page Sparrow
with an apron girded belly
and pear preserves in the pantry

I don’t want to go to Hell

I want to go to Heaven
and walk through pearly gates
to hear the angels sing

I want milk and honey.
I want faith and grace.

I want to love the mystery.
To wrap my self in flour sacks
and sleep with summer stars.



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