Vanished

did we step out in Queen Anne's lace
in flower forgotten fields
wait until Spring evenings

when it will be raining stars
say all the tourist guides and
Sunday's child has far to go

because she mixes up the rhymes
the intonations of the Sunday bills
it's only up the jack and jill hill

to a place with peerless, perilous clouds
and I am clouded over too
or does she even know she is

watching the stars
fall over into clover
too young to go out into the blue

of flower forgotten fields
your dreams yield nothing
someone vaguely charges

transparently, a little offstage
you make life too hard
putting the stars in their cages

but the snows in Queen Anne's lace
cover up the page of
all lost signals

transmitting anguish
had vanished long ago in the
flower forgotten fields

mary angela douglas 4 march 2018