so and so has fallen ill at the Front.
old battlelines are redrawn
and treaties sworn off of.
and scars have marred everything so that
there are no accords.
sometimes I know
they are in delerium,
the numberless names
the quaffed flames
stirring, almost coming back to life
as the ghosts of their pleasant
dreams return to me sobbing,
seeking sanctuary, safe. harbour:
all,all- riderless horses with their jeweled bridles.
I shield them from harm,
from devious charms,
those young dreams uninured;
but I know the dreamers of them
are dead, the pure;
flag fallen;sand castled
some dismal summer day.
whereas, the wounded- stream on...
mary angela douglas
mary angela douglas 16 may 2016