for Osip Mandelstam
your sleep interrupted by the noise of stars
perhaps the scent of pine tar on the winds
of once, home, then turned
into the dragon's lair.
have you forgotten
does the air you're breathing now
emit Heaven's smell of snow,
the whirling ecstacies,
childhood relived?
and an angelic path softly trod.
transposing into another key
the griefs that fell away
you'd still be writing
things we'd long to say
in another language
far from strife
of dreaming then;
you're unaware
the day you entered There.
I hope, too long ago
to remember:
How.
mary angela douglas 30 august 2017
your sleep interrupted by the noise of stars
perhaps the scent of pine tar on the winds
of once, home, then turned
into the dragon's lair.
have you forgotten
does the air you're breathing now
emit Heaven's smell of snow,
the whirling ecstacies,
childhood relived?
and an angelic path softly trod.
transposing into another key
the griefs that fell away
you'd still be writing
things we'd long to say
in another language
far from strife
of dreaming then;
you're unaware
the day you entered There.
I hope, too long ago
to remember:
How.
mary angela douglas 30 august 2017
