Sunday Morning Poetry

This Morning

On this day you would find
a soft package of stars 
wrapped in sky, a ribboned tie
made of cloud, and a piece 
of joy for your heart,
and they would fit perfectly
in the palm of your small hand;
but because I am simply your grand
(mother) and not capable of magic,
you will find toy teapots, blue marbles
chocolate bells and sugared trees –
baby dolls and spy pens.
But I will find a way (don't ever doubt)
to hide keys that open treasures;
you will find them scattered, like crumbs, 
even when you are alone. Especially
when you are alone. I give you these
because I can, because I will, and that is why. 
Because I do not own the stars.
And they were out of sky.
                                             © 2011 Rebecca Kai Dotlich