Wednesday, November 30, 2022

IN APRIL TO MOURN THE DEPARTURE OF MUSIC

april filtered through a broken window

letting in all that green air, all that chill cold

I learned all the notes by heart then

seated at a piano made of flowers

and in a recital, bridesmaid dress, pale raspberry.

this was when

music was still alive

out of all one cherished best

and fell into the heart

like living waters, light, and lightly

the trees dreaming early

of their soon to be blossoming.

music is blossoming too and lost

in the last maze

of sound and on,

on the petaled, the receding air, astounds,

cascading,

falling apart, undefended art

as the critical arrive

in busloads;

I will turn aside

in the last green wood

and think of old poetry

my only gold and good

phasing itself out of here

like a foreign moon enclouded

bearing the last echo, etude

of singular beauty like a cross

only Christ understood.


mary angela douglas 30 november 2022


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