WAVING FROM THE DOCK THIS TIME

[to Emily Dickinson]


waving from the dock this time

where no ships ever come
I fold my handkerchief into

a sudden snowflake

or a single tear mislaid-
forbidding winter's music...

sew poems like stars.

then let the darkness come.
can you hear

the ghost ships surging

in an apple wind?
I can

see clouds like lapidary ships descending

through a
fifth-floor window descant and the winds-

mary angela douglas 2 august 2010