Time Itself, Regarding Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

because they see a blank page there
they feel compelled to fill it up
with poem or song or picture,

gossiping conjecture

as if they were the givers of snow on snow
and we the dark fields and bracken.down below
would that it would snow

where they had been

covering up all tracks
of the little they knew
who looked on me as a blank page too

even while I wept whole diamonds
seas and continents, kingdoms fraught
and guarded with my soul

submerged imperiled beauty
safe from foes
and Time itself,

regarding them with woe.

mary angela douglas 1 august 2017