Enter Pierrot, Laughing (Final Version Revised And Reformatted) Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

dusk falls in sepia tones

as it always does in the vintage photographs

but pierrot is a complex subject, even so,

fragile as a sifting snow

is he laughing or crying;


will you ever know

the pinwheel effusions of

his summer epochs;

his heart that sows white rosebuds.


seen from the distance,

you are sure his smile is real

on closer inspection, what does he really feel;


no daguerreotype will ever reveal.


is it the sun after rain or the other way round

a hopscotch falling to the ground

a lamentation of coloured chalks

or in pastels,

is he feeling very well.


he's out for a walk in infinity

in the beau geste you remember best

in carnival slippers on the moon's crest

or quivering on a quaking wire…

the crowd to please his one desire


what was it you aspired to..

a long time ago I played La Polichinelle on the piano

was


translated into

I only paint his mauve bright tears

his small smile of redacted fears

his penny bright forays…


perceptive angels, do what you must

guard his tremors, cherish his dust

I cannot find him.

mary angela douglas 1 april 2021; 2 april 2021;

23 june 2022; 24 august 2022; 18 june 2024