The Golden Spindle Lies On The Floor Poem by Mary Angela Douglas
The Golden Spindle Lies On The Floor
the golden spindle lies on the floor
where it was flung; whole
civilizations sleep
and now: an old spell is
revisited and ancient lamentations
understood-
up such a narrow flight of
stairs, a broad doom
awaited-
yet I will go from room to
room, seeking lost
kingdoms; enacting-
every possible rose adagio-
mary angela douglas 7 july 2003
Sunday, August 24, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: Legends
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4/24/2024 3:20:41 AM # 1.0.0.1119
