Oh Flower Flotilla Down The Dead-End Mines I Floated You

oh flower flotilla down the

dead-end mines I floated you;

it was not in vain:

though rust appeared in the night sky

as though it were enamel.

the stars creaked on.

now past the horsehead nebula I thought you

climbed, but falling back into the mist I find

the beads slipped through my fingers, time...

and the prayer unwinds where wheels of fire keep still-

restrained by God,

above a well-glazed martyrdom

wherever rust appeared in the night sky, enameled

mary angela douglas 25 july 2013