Thursday, October 27, 2016

Perhaps There Will Be Ships In The Afternoon

perhaps there will be ships in the afternoon
with the shuttered light appearing on
the open page

of the book you wanted to read
and it will slip from your hands
when the old ghosts grieve to

gather roses from your side,
the tides of white and gold.
or will they hide

and you will go out
to look for them in the yard
having misplaced something

with a forgotten name
with the zinnias at their zenith and you,

desultory, the old wounds awakening.
but in the palace

for this instant only
a rose light abides
as it did at your beginning.

the courtiers awaken

and you are the newfallen bride
covering the orchards
with the snows of bright surmise

or the ship that floats above us all now
through a beaded treetop's door
and from earth's winters flying

that they may strive
no more

mary angela douglas 27 october 2016