Tuesday, August 02, 2016

The Snow Queen In Transit

snow down settles on the lunar landscapes
while we read the Snow Queen whirring
the silver horses faster

picks up speed
and december, by the calender, turns blue
and shifts all things in a quilted room

hour by hour where the winds come through;
while Gerda seeks the underground flower,
the one she has forgot

and tries to unknot the necklace
of her sighs
and braids her hair

under sodden moonlight;
warms her boots of felt
by the wayside fireside.

cannot cannot
close her eyes
while riddling it out.

mary angela douglas 2 august 2016