known only to God;
impressions from his last journals]
the fellowship of wounds unwritten here.
the cold air banking the snows
keeping us apart,
the faerylike hour and I;
with only Basho for company
or the latest news.from all the sundry
the poplar fruit dried to a dimming gold.
stray thoughts of growing old: 5, ten years?
between God and the soul, the literary estates,
an uneasy truce.
in Asia, the white flag raised.
mary angela douglas 1 april 2016