Imprimatura (Stanzas Reformatted, Final Version) Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

wrecked gold of the far illuminations
is drifting home
and moonlight sunk in
its own mirrors helplessly
I find forever
in the glazed word you speak.

but april blossoms on the wall
when you bind your luckless
clouds together
and you wound nothing.

imprint this with a spendthrift's sigh
with the knowledge that every colour breathes
the rose you gathered as if it were
long-ago

from very Light.

mary angela douglas 31 august 2011; 4 october 2023