In The Year Of My Favorite Saints

the year of my favorite saints and the strawberries ripening...
while we sang today, while the flowers still cling
while the flowers...
I am butterfly netted in time and captive imperceptibly
though I dreamed the gold nets sifting down
held no spiders
cling to the vine they tell me
lean against the infidel oak and after a while I pray
to still see the trees without ideology as
the Impressionists dreamed them or my muted guardian angel
prays or the gardens of Monet farewell to the lilies
goodbye to strawberries drenched in cream
hello to being used and used up
to becoming cream for the crazy, crazing,craven Cats
who believe they can mock God and everything living
pied pipering it all the way to hell.

mary angela douglas 9 july 2018