read this poem in the language of snow
your last thought as you turn to go
read it in silence
becoming yourself the syllables of a silence
no one owns
read it in all colours
or as apple tree shade
as if it were transparent or
the last call made between God and ourselves
as if it were the last pear shining
in the orchard of the skies
read it and tell no lies.
read it in transitory gleams
read it as if you were breathing flowers
read it as you would be read to
as a child, floating on a stream of, is this possible?
read it and bring on the milder weather
let your heart think evenly silverly
so our boats do not tip over
on the lake of dreams.
mary angela douglas 13 february 2018
your last thought as you turn to go
read it in silence
becoming yourself the syllables of a silence
no one owns
read it in all colours
or as apple tree shade
as if it were transparent or
the last call made between God and ourselves
as if it were the last pear shining
in the orchard of the skies
read it and tell no lies.
read it in transitory gleams
read it as if you were breathing flowers
read it as you would be read to
as a child, floating on a stream of, is this possible?
read it and bring on the milder weather
let your heart think evenly silverly
so our boats do not tip over
on the lake of dreams.
mary angela douglas 13 february 2018
