The Handing Off Of Former Feelings As You Leave Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

they will hand you your feelings in a plastic bag

the ones you came here with.

but you've forgotten to be sad to be glad


it will take a while to get used to it;

maybe we'll have a trial run.

some clouds in the sky, a winter sun.


but the reasons why are different now

when you look up

it's only to measure your shadow on the ground.


does it dwindle like some black candle found

or is it used up

or will it torrentially rain


and so profane the wick

its drenched

as if it were your soul extinguished here:



why should I look straight at the light

as if to tarnish it. or assume a reasonable blindness.


or, in the sudden dazzle of daylight

to one long in the city pent as Keats in his teardrop diamond

sonnet, lament once cried while he was still alive


or on a speeding train with few goodbyes and

the train well sped from the storms with no bouquets


will God in his surprises with half the story said:

turn everything to gold and not to lead.


mary angela douglas 28 june 2020