stringing my
illiterate lyre
I shriek bird cries
within the morning-
fragile flutter
at my ribcage
flights of an austere passion-
breaking for the Sun
when you go
past the Madonna
marble shatters:
complicating moonlight
in your mind
oh bruise the
denying rituals;
cry bright ascent
in darkness:
Christ broke his body
on the sun
where Beauty breaks the prisons of our sleep
mary angela douglas 12 september 1970