TO THE DAYS, THE DEAR DAYS THEY SAID

 

 

TO THE DAYS, THE DEAR DAYS THEY SAID

To the days, the dear days they said then

No longer say, the dear days beyond recall

I direct my wistful scrawl on a curiously

Vintage page and wonder where the sentiment has gone

From modern verse, who banished it or carried it away

And the people bringing posies in a twilight hour

Lingering in the evening with the moon beyond bright

Disclosed then only its silver in poetry no longer read

In ghostly music and refrains

That used to live on earth and do not now resound, remain

In current consciousness, hold sway pearl by pearl

And have we lost that way of being in the world

Directed to friends or sweethearts with kind esteem

Fully at home beneath the oak trees of former reminiscence.

Is there anything left of reminiscence

I ask my soul as twilight unfolds the blossoming night

Still to us so fragile if we still had the way

To apprehend it all, being oh so past that now

O take at any rate this small bouquet of mignonette

You who

for aeons are proud to be instead

Statistical, numerical, somewhat engineered.

And truly though alive on earth, still dead.

mary angela douglas 18 march 2024