And Could We Ever Be Dressed In The Sunset Foils Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

Mary Angela Douglas

Mary Angela Douglas

Little Rock, Arkansas United States of America

And Could We Ever Be Dressed In The Sunset Foils



and could we ever be dressed in the sunset foils
of islands, crinkled with shining?
where it rains colours

everywhere there is a poet
under the shifting fronds of something magical;
forever whispering on the foam, o my pink island.

and is it a whisper of mimosa green, the feathery pink
that will never be this distinct again-
the mango hour?
the froth in the cup of warm apricot

brimming over at the airports of welcome? or
splashed and splashing in secret inks like Easter dyes remembered or a bon-bon sufficiency-
we will write, how strange, dimmed islanders

may remember
our starfish music

rising early in
communion dresses of the unexpected pink,
Mary, mother of all Pearl.

we will adore the God of many colours:
orchid, hisbiscus, looming lemony starry
arcing over the pink and turquoise
tiny homes inset

in the sidewalk chalked, the
hopscotched cliffs of the soul.

mary angela douglas 24 july 2014

Note on the poem: I wanted to use the word 'pink' like a glass handbell rung just at the point in the music where you had forgotten about it.

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Mary Angela Douglas

Mary Angela Douglas

Little Rock, Arkansas United States of America
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