Not The Map Of Milky Jade Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

[to my Grandmother, Lucy W. Young]

you kept your heart in a box of jade
and the trees were jade then, too
when the leaves froze;

frost, from an early spring
and fated to break in two
like the porcelein skies.

we knew
the lakes were jade
and glazed while we stayed indoors;

all April
the flowers grew, under the ice.
and we who were small never knew

at all why you were so sad.
this is the description of a landscape;
it is not a guide.

mary angela douglas 14 january 2016