Museum Piece (I Held Fast To The Cherry Branching Skies) Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

I held fast to the cherry branching skies
even when the earth slipped, the angels
vaulted over the unseen banisters.

they lay on earth dissembled, and starlight
was chipped and I heard the broken glass
of far away sighs that some called music.

all this has passed except for the museums
where long ago springs remain you can see any Sunday
settling down with your coffee and biscotti

they are painted in
sweet greens and blues in a sunlight that

cannot fade in the gardens to which
we can never return, you know,
in the same way.

I have made much of the cherry branching skies.
staying afloat in this way.

painting over the livid lightening of the storms.
the steaming fissures in the sidewalks.

mary angela douglas 31 january 2015