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REMEMBERING THE COLOR OF SNOW
I remember the color of snow in certain paintings
out of the long ago,pearlescent and wistfully I do recall
the roselight falling across the canvas
the hidden light revealed the inner rose and the outer
becoming one distinction as Dante knew
I remember it do you or snow as azure, as gold as mauve
as the fielding of small questions to the sparrow on my
left hand
bad art is the endless revealing of things I reprimand
almost my sparrow laughs
I said to my sparrow, the one on my right hand
balancing in my portrait as inferred I will withstand:
the princess in exile surveying the ruined lands
making ragged suppositions
and suffering through odd dispositions
revealing in song the long exile
the beauty of the colours of snow
falling aslant of all predictability
and lamenting that
no one remembers them now.
the forgotten languages.
mary angela douglas 23 april 2021;21 may 2024
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