Wednesday, March 30, 2016

The Jackdaws Slice The Scissored Air

[to my grandparents: Milton and Lucy Young]

the jackdaws slice the scissored air
while the beautiful stare, uncomprehending
fixed on a crystal stair through Heaven winding into

November's thunderheads.
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

come back.
to me

in a music that is undeterred.
the earliest green, the softest Word.

mary angela douglas 30 march 2016