In The Closet With His Peach Sunsets Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

in the closet with His peach sunsets
I hid my words.
they were young:

a flourish of pale green leaves.
they couldn't understand yet
the gunfire of simple

conversations.
in the closet with His provisionary
angels far from the alarms

I hid my silences.
they were already
like snow before it falls

on a stony landscape
all that they could ever be
at the beginning of glistening

mary angela douglas 17 august 2014