Wednesday, April 25, 2007

I Dreamed Of A Language

I dreamed of a language
that would not fall away or
be brushed aside like

snow on a winter sleeve-

or go unheeded.

of words that would never

shine at the approach of

the deliverers-

and the rose of this word was

the same throughout

and the heart of this rose was

my provenance-

mary angela douglas 30 april 2001