After Jacques Brel (Final Version, Reformatted Stanzas) Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

neither earth nor sky, here comes the thief of wishes
to filch the light from children's eyes from the very sun
that shone on you, Persephone in your dress of wild iris,

neither shore nor sea.
there burns the thief of wishes warning
those who should be told, instead:
oh, flee the Messenger!

or weep fresh centuries away
or shake your Christmas angels,
sleeping fast, awake-

or wait at a turquoise landing
smoothing your dress of pearl till
not a lemon drop's left;
or the shine on the lake
.
she'll murmur from a glassy stream
as one who knew but was not known:
keep stealing the beat from the heart

the right word from the page
while the windmills turn as if in another age but
your own fields
your own...
fields are seldom green.

I saw in a dream with a silver spoon
the thief of wishes scoop the moon
till birdsong flew but not the birds

the songs are lost without refrains
and the sleeve of air
that's not really there
glitters with what remains.

mary angela douglas 29 august 2013; 11 october 2023