Wednesday, March 05, 2014

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

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