I Went Back To Find The Golden Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

I went back to find the golden
age, finding it among
the things you left behind:

your old papers, sausage,
bread and cheese.
the artifacts that fell into
your hands

as if in a fairytale:
a bird on a crystal twig, pink
and blue towers,
a sobbing princess, elaborate
valentines.

a signet ring with no inscription,
strawberries and cream, a
propensity for suddenly appearing,
a beautiful acuity.
silver and gold

I found, rubies
strewn everywhere, a rose-red
flamingo,

slightly out of place-
an iridescence like
snow remembered.

old shoes in the corner
with hidden properties,
Van Gogh's orchards, Cezanne's
reticence, 'a cloud
shaped like a piano'*, Chekov's
last spoken word-

the colors of hydrangea,
Dvorak in a newer world,

my soul

mary angela douglas 8 february 2009

*a line from Chekov's Seagull used allusively (a cloud shaped like a piano- from his play.