Finals

not yet completing the coursework

for saying goodbye to clouds, to trees

to the unexpected breezes on the porch

the music of evening laid low

I hope for some reprieve still

some reason to keep taking the class

on whispering my secrets into the grass

that curls into winter and misses the ear

of the King

remembering

that fairy story and others of first reading

that sound as bells delicately still

ringing over the fields of first impressions

when will the last word come that I can say

to the Spring even in its uncertainty

its fitful green rains and the perfume of flowers now

is just the same as when I was a girl, a child

oh how how can I still feeling myself to be

forever a new bride on the earth say goodbye to thee

the white roses, the lilies curved in starlight

gardenias, full blown, does anyone know?

 and to thee,  forever pearl like, the early snows.

mary angela douglas 25 september 2021