Poetry Is Viewed Now As Through A Periscope Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

poetry is viewed now through a periscope.
outside are clouds, vast trees, restless
galaxies.

the gleam of silver
on a bird's wing.
how can you understand

your life in a cubicle
or filtered through The News
that is always the what is not

your own picked apart by the talkative.
shut it off. become yourself,
like trees do.

without fanfare, prizes or
voicing your opinion endlessly.
with hidden scars.

sweet green interiors.

mary angela douglas 15 december 2015