far away in a green field
in someone else's century
in a time when the pillagers
had not yet organized
when the iris in the rainbow
was enduring
I set my mind to rest
beyond the facts of the case
in a stage set rose garden
with a real nightingale trilling
where the moon never rises
but once in all three acts
I sent my soul there
and was content to play
no part at all
alas, my all too imaginary heart
I have sent you all over the map
of heedless Time
to geographies unknown
to towns off the track and quite charming
and I cannot call you back.
mary angela douglas 22 january 2022
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