a disquieting blue when the winds come through
I could see by the white frame house
in the trees that were formerly green
is it the dusk and yet it seemed not to be
that paints them that way
then we look at our hands
becoming blue when they were rose
a few hours ago
somewhere a storm is funneling
and it is blue, clear through
a bluegrass blue
we knew, we knew
and we can hear it come far away
as though we were fairies
in the summer grass
who understand everything
but never said a word
since none believed in us
even if they heard
or paid attention to us
feeling new worlds have come to pass
far away, in the night skies. close at hand
in the new sprinkler grass
listen, listen for the blue.
mary angela douglas 18 april 2018
I could see by the white frame house
in the trees that were formerly green
is it the dusk and yet it seemed not to be
that paints them that way
then we look at our hands
becoming blue when they were rose
a few hours ago
somewhere a storm is funneling
and it is blue, clear through
a bluegrass blue
we knew, we knew
and we can hear it come far away
as though we were fairies
in the summer grass
who understand everything
but never said a word
since none believed in us
even if they heard
or paid attention to us
feeling new worlds have come to pass
far away, in the night skies. close at hand
in the new sprinkler grass
listen, listen for the blue.
mary angela douglas 18 april 2018
