[A flower poem from this morning that branched out of a conversation concerning the dream of visiting the gardens of the world…memories of childhood springs the feeling of that…]
we were in the blue shade and the deeper
shade, the delphinium
and in the hour of lilacs quiet, filled with
the misted greens
oh April I have loved you
beyond few things on earth
were you a dream
I pass the old warehouses
sick of their rubbishy ghosts
the brambles where the gardens grew
with or without their silver bells
cockle shells came the dream floating
down again the chute of mays, remembering
they were that pearled and I will seek
lost orchards, the shades of lost orchards
the girl that I was then
sailing away from the dour precints
where I was thought employable.
and toward the museums of Light
mary angela douglas 25 march 2016
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