Tomorrow We Fly: Ilya To Emilia Kabakova Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

in the Zone above the rooftops now

I will inscribe for you in the snowbanked clouds,

the diffident albums now the spirographed colours

we could not use on this shore

or

in all preceding dreams, a kind of reprise

startling the angels, my angel

dream the dream of the snowbanks Emilia

it wasn't what we planned but still the swans fly over

the dry, dry land

in mystical kingdoms resolved

in an unheard music. weep not.

weep not maiden.

for war is kind

an American poet once said

we too in a wandering way

were led and farther afield

will build anew

everything we had planned to do

into all colours transposing them one by one

into the further installations

of the Sun.

mary angela douglas 8 june 2023