We Live On

we live on in the nursery of the world
despite unfinished grocery lists,
keys that plunge to the bottom

of any bag.
what's to be had now what's to give away
though Aurora's rosy fingers

still can tinge the day
at its earliest.
are we on our way

to somewhere we can't name.
I don't know.
but in my dreams

sometimes I'm in unknown towns
with familiar scenes.
in old factories

looking for the exit to the right street
the one to take me home.
but home is a ghost ship too

waiting its turn
at the stoplight
gazing ironically at the old trees.

when they sigh I remember
the poet Rilke almost said at times
who sighs anywhere in the world now

sighs for me.

mary angela douglas 10 may 2019