Broken Willow Ware, Oh How Will I Cross Over

broken willow ware, oh how will I cross over

the delicate bridge that skirts your jagged stream.

how sadly the split moons swivel in the pattern

and I have hurt their

dreams of languid twilight;

shimmering of small lavender bells

now out of tune.

how easy it was for the moon to slip

between your  careful clouds.

I dreamed I was there, day-wishing

and the dish slipped, too;

the baby ferns wept purple

in their streams

missing the implied Princess sail even

further, forever chipped from view...

standing in my rented kitchen

how will I explain to you

the fault-line in your terraced stair.

the shifting of your kind kingdom-

or recover your blue summers

or breathe this fractured air

mary angela douglas 5 march 2014