Lost At These Frail Latitudes, I Poem by Mary Angela Douglas
Lost At These Frail Latitudes, I
lost at these frail latitudes I
still exist: to measure the
snows of silence I
don't understand
bearing your wavelength like a crown
and living out a language that's
not finished yet-
I monitor the surface of
the ground-
resting near a window onto space-
mary angela douglas 23 january 2003/30 may 2005
Monday, September 25, 2023
Topic(s) of this poem: january
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8/29/2026 8:20:28 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
