My Two Loves            by Wendy Freebourne            In each hand            I hold            A sphere of shining gold.            One crumbles into dust            And the other becomes            A blossom.            Deep scarlet            Changing into orange,            Which becomes            Yellow as the sun,            Its petals opening            As hands in prayer;            The palest silvery light            Changing into purest white.            It turns into a dove            And flies away.            Published in National Poetry Anthology, Bright Voices, 2003 Top of page | Poetry                                                         Previous Poem | Next Poem

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