Panelope at Her Loom

heroic virtue was to stay behind
weaving the same threads over time
then most of all, unweaving.

but in the book I understand
heroic virtue in that man
was leaving.

gold in the honey
amber chimes;
the waves caesura

in her mind
reminding her of all of Time
and all of Time, is grieving.

who would that adventure choose
weaving love up in her room
unweaving it again.

yet still, love proving,
until then

having so much to pretend
and no one no one to defend

her seeming lack of household skill
her fortress against every will
to unweave her.

basting and unbasting still
I think of her
I always will

beyond the clash of steel and verve
the mariners, the sea's wild curve
the house in ruins and still she weaves

stalwart beyond every seam and meaning
of the world's reversals, queen.
and love itself dreamed and undreamed

relentlessly. I don't know how
she kept through anguished epochs
such a vow.


mary angela douglas 8 december 2019