Wild Roses

stooping to find the name for myself

in the bottle-necked world brim-filled

with stones to stone or to confine-

I rise to find

all names are taken:

only Your Name shines

above gardenia galaxies

and our lost home

with the blue curtains-

and I'm in the

tatters of the words

I cannot find

to say that

even then, I know-while kicking through the vacant lots

You strewed my path with wild

invisible roses.

that I might not-

weep time away-

mary angela douglas 3 september 2011