Snow Moon Tune

 

for the poet, John Keats

just the sound of it entrances: Snow Moon, in late February

not far from the cusp of Spring we imagine petals falling in profusion from the moon

as we have done in other poems in a contemplative room

snow moon snow moon tipping over like a vase of white iris

I could whisper the litany forever

and imagine a vast cameo in Space

forever eluding definition: that creaminess of light

over the stilled landscape of my dreams

as if I were still fifteen;seeking the moon among the magnolias

I will be lunar too, or cutting paper Words into lace work

to scatter it over the plains from some high altitude

startling lost birds in their too somnolent flight;

enchanted forever with the phrase, most cherished

in some mythological way it chimes on the tongue

like every Once upon...again we come across it that-

that Lantern lit by Whom that cannot be consumed;

so auspiciously named;

the augury of the snowy snow moon.

we resume, all forgotten wonder

as though we could plunder just a smudge of that Silver or

like children their play pretend pirate loot: just scoop

from its ivory bands: without assuming anything,

the quietude of Eternity.

with our proud parents, angels, looking on.

mary angela douglas 28 february 2021