sad things. sad things.
what shall I do with all the sad things?
shall I nail them to the skies
that all the clouds may weep
from the paintings
in the great museums?
willows have swept the pond
for the drowned stars.
niobe, blue and rose has settled the rains.
for one green moment, miragelike in the Spring
imagining I did God a favour
I have left my only home.
mary angela douglas 16 may 2023
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