Legend

I had a diaphanous legend, sheer:
with occasional sequins.
with the telling of it,

small slow stars started falling
out of a winter sky
to the azure amazement

of some passersby;a few
misplaced dogs.
you think I am poor

with little to say for myself
you cannot belittle
without even half trying;

because I can produce
no golden carriage
from a nutshell;

because I stray
where the Sole Pearl gathers light
and then flings it away

and yet, retains all lucency
in shoals so rainbow marled;

because I eat an orange in sections
to make it last the whole day.
because I write only in sapphires

and only then when it rains.
you actually disdain me
and consider it smart

to make that plain.
genius, really.

but once I had
a diaphanous legend...
can you, say the same?

mary angela douglas 22 december 2015