Ave, Avion

maybe their angels are deceased
the playground bullies grown a little older
scoffed and talked too much

of their largesse at all the reunions

and we in our scuffed shoes
our bartered dress
looked at the moon through clouds

while they scoffed on interminably loud
how can they be

cherished of God
the cherisher of sparrows flown
oh don't look down

still the ice is on your wings
and other woundings come
while you're still on the ground

don't make a sound that they can overhear
from year to ridiculed year
or music itself will splinter

and be scattered far from here
o fare thee well and etc.

only the jewels of suppressed tears
on the ever encroaching webs will shine.
but we said no and rose with broken wings

against the current of the times,
the current of the times

ave maria.
dona nobis

flight

mary angela douglas 11 november 2017