what is left of her life I said
an answer to me softly sped
the fairytale gleanings
lost in the music I dreamed on
where then was the silent swan song, when
I was answered by the wind
could I dream it could I dare
to hear her footfall on an empty stair
but someone kept on whispering there
canter not in full despair
upon the hills of spring o.
though they are rare,
the fairytale gleanings
light and bright as snow
as snow upon the early rose
they will not melt there, though.
mary angela douglas 12 february 2023
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