the poems of the stars are
gone, and fire-spared
never endings-
lost as the silent reaches
their language was intended
for:
and overreaching love
in its Icarian phase.
but I am sinking, snow-deep,
in sound, but I am on
the first page, again
of skies no power can consume-
regaining your syllable after
syllable-
mary angela douglas 22 february 2001/28 august 2005
*refers to line in Mikhail Bulgakov's Novel The Master and Margarita:
"Didn't you know that manuscripts don't burn?"
