TO CHANGE THESE HOURS
She reaches the gate of four pearls
Rattles the bars.
Sees through a fence of fire
One star.
And the sun dancing in gold shoes.
In the east
Helios is driving the four horses.
She would change these hours
But knows:
To pick bright flowers
She must never look back.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
DO NOT BELIEVE ALL
Do not believe all
you read in history :
it has long been out of date.
But listen to the wind,
observe the sun, birds,
and wide, wide sky.
And somewhere,
on a far-off beach,
where ocean grinds and
washes rocks to fine sand;
a pink shell, a periwinkle.
Here history winks her eye.
Now walk and read.
• Maureen Wheldon's poetry has appeared in various small press magazines and her collection To Change These Hours published by Kite Modern Poetry Series.