To The One For Whom Fell One Golden Teardrop

to the one for whom fell one golden teardrop
the blurred inscription read-
and then broke off,

jeweled telegram
lettered on grade school paper.
how wide are the lines

between us-
like lanes, our time and theirs.
or their time that never was or was:

the tear of before or after?
of the latent or finished disasters?
of the leaves that drift on-

flame on flame and then burnt sienna,
never minding the details

and glisten in the winds that will
never tell the name for whom was shed
where the wild trees bled their colours-

into the cold-

one teardrop of gold

mary angela douglas 11 october 2015