In The Wood At The End Of The World

a cardinal red is sequined shining into
what was not known at the time
you're in the entry way

and these branches are your sky
your roof from the glaring sun.
when winter comes

what will you do
when there's no warmth left
and all blossoms flee on the winds

comprising hurricanes of the Pastel

returning as snowy ghosts of themselves.
here you will know
and not be known

becoming one by angels shod
and candlelit, all glorious within
praying then-

dear God
do not blow this candle out yet

mary angela douglas 24 july 2017