The Mere Mention Of His Name

old books came back to the

countries of my heart and

rooted there:

to all those scratching the surface

for loose change-

secretly, I said, "adieu".

I meant it.

familiar as twilight like a birthright

the white stones sang

under the thinest thread of moonlight-

I know that I will find

along this path

of the fairytale's declining year the

glissando shimmer of the

harp-won days-

and turn again, like Dick Whittington,

counting the silvered seconds till

all Beauty Comes to Pass...

it's the bright rose hush of petals

scattered near the rosebuds I

will guard like a severed childhood

the mere

mention of Your Name

that's outlawed, now-

mary angela douglas 11-12, may 2011