walking was easier when they were here
the ones who read you stories
who covered you with quilts
and hid the Easter eggs
who taught you etudes
rocked you to sleep with hymns.
whose people are we now I ask my sister in my mind
across the long distance to our pale blue nursery
that they seem visionary, sometimes
coming back with little sandwiches and punch;
adages in your half sleep
for things they forget to tell you: of
how life would be
they shine in their own light now
removed from all these things
but you remember everything everything
especially in catastrophic moments
when the world seeps in and shows its hidden face
and you will walk again.
through more than a rising grace.
mary angela douglas 28 march 2021
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