That There Should Be Flowers There

the mood of Hamlet is a winter mood-

without the sun, or only a chilled sun.

uncertainty. the ghost shifts through the

mists.  the kingdom of mists.

at least I thought so

for a score of winters.

how odd, then, how unaccountable

that there should be flowers in that landscape

of every hue.  those she wove in the end, Ophelia,

abdicating the sweetness of her mind;

unless, they only dreamed it all

through long midwinters-

deep as a sleep in the suspended fairytales:

skipping the Paegents and the Christmases

they could awake to find

a kingdom honeyed with sunlight

and all, as before.

and how, with rue, heart sore

thinking long on that story,

I wished that this were true.

mary angela douglas 5 june 2014