[partially inspired by the Peter Weir film, The Last Wave]
champagne coloured, for awhile, the clouds disperse;
a universe has set and still you are not sure
you see what you have seen,
the dream-time rumbles and the tinted windows dream
they have escaped the floods and children garbed
like angels skip their breakfast on the morning of.
a universe has set and still you do not understand
the gold flecked ticking wanes above the azure.
you'll worry for the little things and stay awake
for things you have no name for-
while, even then, the high winds rise and the floor buckles.
drenched in the colours of the not-been-born yet,
will we awake to find the hail has not destroyed the view
and we were held within Your summer ark
brittle as we were-
the ancient nightmares through?
mary angela douglas 18 april 2014
1 comment:
Angela--I thought of you this morning and decided to see if I could find you through the power of Google. I was your classmate at Fontbonne--Ann Buermann then. I'm Ann Wass now. I see you are still a poet. I'm on Facebook if you want to say hello.
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