all the dragon slayers run away
those with brandished swords in Arthur's realm
those with time to kill will march again
raising voices impotent and shrill
can I please go back I ask of the risen Lord
to when people still at least loved the legendary
even if they didn't quite live up to it
to when we gazed as if the whole world
were our homeland and at peace
at the pink and blue skies
like pure confection.
I weep for the wandering
for all evicted from Time
for the ghosts that lingered
on the cusp of the Sublime
seeking in all things
the nostalgia for beauty.
quiescent under the golden moon.
mary angela douglas 25 june 2023
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