Pockets Poem by Mary Angela Douglas
Pockets
I turn old pockets wrong side out
To find if there is hidden treasure
Shamrock leaf, or tiny egg of crystal
Forgotten token to a train I used to take
To work in the city on a clerkish day
What will I find to tide me over now
When so many things have been lost somehow
Maybe a fresh wind that blows
Maybe unmelted snow
From the hollyberry bush
At home.
mary angela douglas 24 march 2024
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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8/28/2026 11:32:05 AM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
