exiled to find the quick notes gathering in the breeze
and quickening and this is music cried the poets
yeer on year derided. how could they be
full of pride drinking the gall of wordless centuries.
exiled to find that Music went before their exile
greening the woods that seemed so desolate
viewed from far
viewed from far no one would think them brave
or even alive but they did not dwell where they
were thought to: locked and shunned
but from the least sunbeam on the jailer's floor
made light, more light
into their setting suns
mary angela douglas 2 february 2014
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