the jackdaws slice the scissored air
while the beautiful stare, uncomprehending
fixed on a crystal stair through Heaven winding into
and while the caw from branches overwhelms
those in the present tense and bent and furrowed
on their way to work
the lovely live entranced
in the memory of roses and cannot shirk
the visions vouchsafed them
in the long ago.
you in your sullen poses flee
you will, the early Spring
and all and all my loves,
my little ones
in a music that is undeterred.
the earliest green, the softest Word.
mary angela douglas 30 march 2016