[in memory of my grandfather, Milton B. Young]
what have they done with
my fairytale alphabet,
chasing down events?
I still believe in your
letters of gold cherished
in secret, guarded in times of war
your bursts of transcendent
light, your roses your
redemption
under your wings your
sorrow I have rested
in modern times
your blue shining skies
replaced for me by
nothing, my cloud, my dream
I will never be banished from
the realm of speaking
and living in you,
oh, my language of stars
mary angela douglas 29 january 1999
