Mary Angela Douglas Poems

caught in the sequined rains of every colour
we longed to be brighter than the brightness
of all things
...

the ice cream panes of august melt
i'm gazing through the isinglass
of panoramic eggs in spring
one frosted rose means everything
...

that stepshoe is too tight the sisters wailed
and who wears see-through shoes that's anyone anyway
they sniffed though not in unison
...

'God's name like a huge bird flew out of my breast.
Before me the thick mists swarm;
Behind me, an empty cage.'
-Osip Mandelstam
...

I was wearing a dress of impeachable hue
at least, that's what they said.
I thought it was only the color of roses
...

blue words were spoken from a golden book:
aqua blue, colour of summers, or aqua green
(mystic, the colour of repainted bookshelves
...

[to Tommy Dykeman, childhood friend-
earnestly searching for arrowheads and fossils.
in the vacant lot, on a Sunday afternoon]
...

I hid beneath my eyelid the poem of Infinite light
so no one could steal it.
and in my shoe, the poem of going away.
...

red velveteen wouldn't the rosebuds wish to be
thought the little girl colouring endlessly
in the afternoon while her mama
...

I'm not the folk tune said the princess
her head in her jeweled hands.
not even the broidered kerchief
...