Wednesday, April 25, 2007


lifted on the swallow's back
over these dreams of green

it's so hard to believe you
were ever underground

holding onto a failing curtain
of light

with your small hands-

sorting muddy laundry
for the Mole.

maybe it is better to
recall that day in the

passage the swallow came
back to life and
poetry was regenerated

alongside that spring-
this could not have been imagined;

this, above all things-

was real

mary angela dougls 25 march 2006