I have vanished she said
in the miasmic, splendor
of the autumn day
maple leaves pinned to
the dress of the winds
all friends disappearing, disappeared
and I have counted the candle years
as though they could not burn down
in this blue shawl
that folds to snows.
where shall I go, will You defend
softly I ask
the Maker at Land's End.
stars are melting into the angelic
and I have no poems left
mary angela douglas 7 january 2016
in the miasmic, splendor
of the autumn day
maple leaves pinned to
the dress of the winds
all friends disappearing, disappeared
and I have counted the candle years
as though they could not burn down
in this blue shawl
that folds to snows.
where shall I go, will You defend
softly I ask
the Maker at Land's End.
stars are melting into the angelic
and I have no poems left
mary angela douglas 7 january 2016
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