["Il pleure dans mon coeur..."
-Paul Verlaine (after Rimbaud)]
Thomas Chatterton the rain
runs in rivulets off the roof
and down the colors of dreams
so obliquely
this distilled
you might remember
Thomas Chatterton
youngest brother to amending music,
so unmended
is it always raining
at the back of every poem
and just for you?
with your antique pen brand-new
your last loaf hard
as brickbats-
steeped in documents
of moon-drenched moment;
rosebud, salient madrigal
these small strawberries
in the grass
I've picked for you
your eyes pooled with treasure
only you could name.
forgive all lack of feeling:
the forgeries of the cold;
all those who meant to read you
whole-heartedly.
bless from your starry attic
those who followed you, too late
the rain in this poem
and all others
mary angela douglas 1 june 2009
