The Beautiful Evening At The End Of The World Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

the beautiful evening at the end of the world

I try to imagine it, the skies turning orchid
the elegant gathering on the terraces to watch the summer constellations; little girls staying up late in fresh

pique, pink or green or blue

or gazing at the moon as though it would never be enough

gazing

there could never be enough gazing to see it in the way that

it shone and who lit the lantern then, was it Rousseau

you can see the poem would flow better in French

except that I know that lantern, the silver on was lit by God

as well as the daylight sun, his golden one

they are a matched set though in the beautiful evening only

one is visible depending on the angle of clouds or if suddenly

you should brush the mist from your eyes

at the thought of leaving

the beautiful earth on the beautiful evening

how I would like to be by the side of the house I grew up in

near the gardenias and the skies so thick with stars as they were

back then

I would say another word to God such as oh let there be gardenias in

Heaven

the music of Ravel, of Debussy's cathedral

submerged again in music

in music that never ends.

and the houses lit within.

mary angela douglas 11 june 2021