the heart's own music will you find again
tucked away in some old book
the looking glass river sifting gold
roll on o dreamers, pioneers of the bygone
across the invisible prairies now
and show us how to mend our ghosts
the skies are dim with premonitions of the late snows
the Heavenly hosts
my Grandmother sews the windows shut
on the crisscross house and I thread the needle
as she did one cerise length of thread to finish up
the embroidered heart
to freshen anew with bluebird floss
remaining days
that I may be a gloss in the margin of
American poetry.
mary angela douglas 29 september 2018
tucked away in some old book
the looking glass river sifting gold
roll on o dreamers, pioneers of the bygone
across the invisible prairies now
and show us how to mend our ghosts
the skies are dim with premonitions of the late snows
the Heavenly hosts
my Grandmother sews the windows shut
on the crisscross house and I thread the needle
as she did one cerise length of thread to finish up
the embroidered heart
to freshen anew with bluebird floss
remaining days
that I may be a gloss in the margin of
American poetry.
mary angela douglas 29 september 2018
