Hill Top Again Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

it's the unfinished worlds they declare finished
that rankle the most
chains cranking in the night

must be somewhere they need to get to
never oiling their machines
would it be seemly to fade into

the slim branching February
of your violet dreams
if to be far from them?

whether or not, ready or not,
and after deep snows descend;
in our cherry bright scarves-

like children at the top of the hill,
here we go!

mary angela douglas 28 march 2016