Every Poem Is A Frontier

every poem is a frontier

the glaze on the wind

before the snows begin

and you are no longer here

even when they testify you are.

as far as words can be

from the soul

you want to go without distraction.

packing everything.

but every moon looks back on you

and every faction.

where is there left to go

when hearing doesn't help.

listening, still less.

have you begun to move from earth

without the ladder provided by the angels

is this too soon? where are my manners.

it's an immersion, it has wings.you try to explain.

things begin to pick up in the rain.

this isnt a story this is happening now

as if you're feeling peeled from a silver

bough from the route you had taken

on a summer afternoon

its such a different country now.

am I this ghost

they think they still need at work

to answer the phones.

to open the mail.

what messages may fail

from a Far Coast

is up to you.

the landscape's white on white.and it has bloomed

while you remember the word that means blizzard

in the language you were supposed to learn.

no one can understand what you heard

but you can't blame them.

its just an eternal kind of day and

every one feels this way.

when the ground is shifting.

mary angela douglas 9 july 2019