Shadows Of Swans, Snow Tears Magisterial

shadows of swans, snow tears magisterial

in this white valentine enfolded are

framed at the window from

which I cannot turn

there are silver apples in the air

will I ever understand

your pure spectacles so soundless

re-enactments of lost stars as they are losing

light

oh what in your mind makes it begin again...

how your heart breaks off

little pieces from a distant

sky to say something, anything

filtered through lace and lace and

mystifying - so that I cannot hear-

but only feel it-

shred your clear crystal flowers from on High

for softest reasons known only to You-

and hush the shadows of swans in me

that want to sing only the ends of the stories, oh-

there are silver apples on the air

this winter in Shalott let the wind through the

syllables of trees

stand still-

mary angela douglas 7 december, 4 december 2010