how indigenous these rocks, that clay
perhaps they say in a half baked dream I had
one day and I laugh at my mud pied dreaming
indigenous lovely word indigenous
yes we all are
native to this place
these rocks these waves
these summer days
and I glide off like Alice
on the lily pond
trailing my hand in the waters in
a frock just made for the occasion
light as light itself
and embroidered.
how will I learn to say
I wonder when I am small
such great good things
in a golden way
except by listening to each word
carefully tasting it like a cherry
lozenge making it last
all day, for years,
even centuries...
mary angela douglas 10 april 2017
perhaps they say in a half baked dream I had
one day and I laugh at my mud pied dreaming
indigenous lovely word indigenous
yes we all are
native to this place
these rocks these waves
these summer days
and I glide off like Alice
on the lily pond
trailing my hand in the waters in
a frock just made for the occasion
light as light itself
and embroidered.
how will I learn to say
I wonder when I am small
such great good things
in a golden way
except by listening to each word
carefully tasting it like a cherry
lozenge making it last
all day, for years,
even centuries...
mary angela douglas 10 april 2017
