=n the greenwood of song
I took up residence
In the long shade of
My catholic springs
And wondered to myself
And sang unto myself
About all things
All things beautiful beyond regret
The things my heart could not forget
I did not reprise the news
Except the news the poets told of old
That beauty is always perishing
But not, in the soul.
Not the message that the cafes wanted to hear
In this late hour and yet it's still
The greening of the year.
mary angela douglas 17 march 2024
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem