in the picture book of how we felt then
listening to Mary O' Hara sing as delicate
as the harp she played on, the Gaelic songs
I could not understand except by heart
by heart and the jeweled grass singing
in the early dews I remember the shrine
of my childhood, the blue glaze and how I prayed
before I knew that time was less permanent
than the dews
mary angela douglas 31 july 2020
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