On the days when she is standing in the sun,
my aunt will try to give me her halo.
I’ve learned to receive it gratefully:

Sooner or later you’ll regenerate a new one.
Sometimes, this little helmet of light
is white and sleek and new.
It has no flowers.

Naked. That doesn’t matter.
Your friends will accept it without a doubt,
without knowing you’ve slipped them a crown.
Just let them smile.

Only when my aunt is smiling
she forgets what she thinks she owes
and thinks about her halo-gift.
This is right,

You can’t keep one halo
for too long.


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