oh Etretat
that wasn't on my map before
and now is only a mist
rolling off of a fugitive poem
signed off on
I can't get out of my head
chalk white I bled words
thinking it was the light
that entered the room
then forests bloomed
as though on the underside
of water
the stars resumed their wheeling
above what cannot be named
the plains the everlasting plains
of a snowiness
I can never explain
etretat
the heart is new made now
and branches like the pear orchard.
in the fairy stories.
mary angela douglas 12 december 2017
that wasn't on my map before
and now is only a mist
rolling off of a fugitive poem
signed off on
I can't get out of my head
chalk white I bled words
thinking it was the light
that entered the room
then forests bloomed
as though on the underside
of water
the stars resumed their wheeling
above what cannot be named
the plains the everlasting plains
of a snowiness
I can never explain
etretat
the heart is new made now
and branches like the pear orchard.
in the fairy stories.
mary angela douglas 12 december 2017
