Glorious Improviso Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

glorious improviso

the air after Spring rains, or autumnal

or the fairy tale on the wing as my mama told it to me

in the north and diamond wind and

under the thousand myriad coloured coverlets

of the Princess, tested by the pea.

I will dream again of these things

though I have no darling but God

or only for that reason

of the leaves when they were newly green

when we could turn on a dime in Poetry

even in our sleep and in the blue shade of my sister's Chopin

rehearse our nostalgias in advance

even when the sugarplum dreams

stopped crowding in

so ornately. of when, of when

there were only heralding angels.
everywhere: the distant sound of chimes.
in Arkansas, the vast stars.

mary angela douglas 3 september 2021