for Charlotte Bronte
always dreaming in the blue crepuscular
the azure otherworldly
lanes, and in the distance the brief summers
at Thornfield the momentary violets
the clouds of musk roses
and then the lightning struck tree
Jane Eyre, how fervid how damp and
fitful the landscapes you inhabited
otherworldly and lunar
no weddings today
the window sash flung open the moon behind haloed clouds
or dense with sudden alteration everything around you
and then the blessed rains
the end of gothic nightmares
the apple blossoms surging
on the blind way home.
mary angela douglas 29 january 2023
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