have by yourself fabricating the fabric of it
so that every inch shines on the loom
and you weave in and out of it your own design
without designs on anyone else without the
glaring meeting your Good Morning!
on those mornings where the sullen canyons
won't even give you an echo back.
so here's the track we run on when it
all looks bleak, our own! and every part
of that railroad gleams and goes past
limpid streams that turn the waterwheels
round and the children in their colorful
outfits wave in the snow near the
evergreens lit for perpetual Christmas.
this is the secret of playwrights cherishing
their plays or the old men cracking wise with
invisible friends in the fast food chains
or the angels in a dark time
heralding pearl to pearl edged wing
no shepherds yet in view.
mary angela douglas 20 may 2015