I remember when we were standing still
and the day was a drop of honey
beading on a spoon,
the spoon of silver made.
how intricate our delays seemed then
in the afternoons
like Florentine colours laid on
thickly one by one.
peach bloomed in the skies
over the cypresses
while
our shadows
embroidered like frescoes
the dreaming walls.
now the hours
do not come to me
when I call
but I must wait
at the gate of all the stars
God ever made
reading the night skies
like the apprenticed Magi
mary angela douglas 4 august 2017
and the day was a drop of honey
beading on a spoon,
the spoon of silver made.
how intricate our delays seemed then
in the afternoons
like Florentine colours laid on
thickly one by one.
peach bloomed in the skies
over the cypresses
while
our shadows
embroidered like frescoes
the dreaming walls.
now the hours
do not come to me
when I call
but I must wait
at the gate of all the stars
God ever made
reading the night skies
like the apprenticed Magi
mary angela douglas 4 august 2017
