can these lilies be transposed
I asked my grandmother in a waking dream
in between the seams of childhood in a twilight light
light purple it is or later we called it lavender
once we knew the word, the words and the colour of
lavender blue and that little song
I wished I had asked her about that music
the way she looked at it how it lodged in her soul
about music for the pianoforte she seemed to know everything
everything is music I could say I would have said then
or sung in a roundelay
and I did feel without saying it the lilies could be transposed
why not as flowers should have that capability
drifting on the waters of Monet or Debussy perhaps
memorial
leaning toward the sun or under the moon looking different
perfuming the air with silver for as long as the dream time runs.
her Liebestraum.
her hands, christening the keys.
making my Grandfather weep.
mary angela douglas 29 august 2022;28 february 2023
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