My Grandmother Speaks Of Heaven

loveliness does not alter there
nor the blossom slip from the branch
you can believe in this

when you are far from home
and we took our small suitcases then
from the closet

packed with the let's pretend
we will be coming back,
the last of the crackers

in her cabinet
a silver thirst for music

and the winds came up
and took us away
as though from Oz.

now I look through no crystal
gazing at her wringing her hands
for what happened on the way

but pray in Heaven she will know
I hear her say
in any storm

there will be peace there
purer than all ths snows
the magnolia opening slowly

in the silver bowl
when you are the blossom
slipping from the branch.

mary angela douglas 5 december 2017