Saturday, February 21, 2015

Reading The Poem All On Her Own In Her Grandfather's Chair

the cream cannot slosh in the strawberries
when you spoon them out.
the almonds on the trout are cut so fine

the rainbowed scales gleam through.
you take small bites. your dress is new
with a pale sash

a paler sheen.
all this is in a dream that you had yesterday
that you're still in

geographies are useless here.
contexts forbidden. pure meaning's hidden
or trellised like a rich vine

like light itself like the wind that blows
the next page forward
and the page after that is Christmas.

tissue guards in sunrise colours
and over the snows
the first intimations of

the Rose.

mary angela dougas 22 february 2015