she said to herself when the peach
blossoms shone and for one moment
only, clouds parted.
is this the parting of ways
she wondered in a kind of haze
how am I to know
when no one speaks here
the language of snow
or cares for me,
that I come or go
though I have diamonds in my hands
and a pearl like shadow on the landscape
when the moon glows.
mary angela douglas 20 november 2016