SNOW DREAMED: FOR MARTIN BURKE

 

[for the fine Irish-Belgian poet, playwright Martin Burke, in memoriam. and for his Marie-Anne

snow dreamed.

dreamed it could become white roses, 

lost brides

sudden angels.

snow dreamed it was something else besides

still somehow, snow

the flower without stem

the pause in music; 

waiting to begin

floating it longed to fly

flying it longed to lie on fences, 

rooftops, to become the town

the plains

never to turn to rain

and weeping.

snow dreamed and dreamed and dreamed

it was our sleeping

in bouquets extravagantly cold

and danced on the mittens of little children.

of ship avowals it dreamed at sea

and floating with the waves

it disappeared and who could tell it then

from foam

from Praise

and still, it dreamed until we all were snow

and delicate and forevers

branching and branching...

mary angela douglas 6 december 2017