Monday, September 22, 2014

For the Romantic Poets In The Dissatisfied Light Of Post Modern Poetry

dry sticks in the wind,
how have they made this from your music?
I can't pretend to like them for it.

once the skies were ours

the rainbow gleaming dome
and the multifaceted shone

even in a single dewdrop

and the blown rose.
but they have bundled you off

to the ragmen of the soul

for pennies on the dollar
I never owned.

what's owning for

if you lose this?

what will you tell your children's children

when they come to find
the trees stripped bare in summers

in a world of care,

I would ask them if I thought
they could listen and, if, I dared.

let the sere winds blow the betrayals away.

God speaks still in the solitary ear

unquenchable gold and always,

glistening

mary angela douglas 22 september 2014

No comments: