Rilkean birds flew out of my heart
startled by the nearness of the skies.
cloud music I have loved you
with an unseen love
imagining the winds at Duino
and the first gold fissure of
angels floating nigh
the pale green parapets in
dangerous weather, the
Poet almost blown overboard…
who can forget to love
the poet born
to be wounded by roses,
business letters and the unrecorded-
covert sniping glances on
the endless pavements where you walked-
the leaves whirl up as high as sunset
roses left for you by God
though you’re no longer here to gather them.
children gazing from their windows-
unused to the battlements of high Song-
as suddenly- began to dream…
began to notice the teacups rattling on their own-
and the far distances…
as though they were meant to be
strange neighbors
in the same music,
Shining-
mary angela douglas 27-28 february 2012
