Quixote By Cloudlight Pitied Only Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

to Miguel Cervantes, forever

crying out on the slow blade's curve
could no one hear him but the jeweled clouds?
the lowland sorrows gathered here

in after years, and bowing down to the ground.
imperial scorn and local gossip did not die here
wept the angels yet-

he was hoisted on the stars; it must have been.
and are the Giants vanquished yet?
nursery rhymed the children, bringing flowers

to the gaunt one, laid to rest
in an evil hour

mary angela douglas 31 july 2014