oh Starry Word

oh starry Word how is it you are broken
so that the dew is splintered on the grass
and all my angels pass

going the wrong way home.
how low down to the ground
I cannot bow

to those who think you came
to be continually mocked
mock orange blossoms I

would scatter before you
small perfumes, antidotes
or is it too late.

my fate to be
always the last one on the scene.
how vivid are thy wounds

beyond the life of roses torn-
and bound
to the mast of distant laughter

while we in uncertain poses
shatter the rainbows in the glass
still watching our angels pass.

mary angela douglas 4 march 2018