My Music Box, Have They Killed You? Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

my music box, have they killed you?
-I'm alright. I just can't finish the tune
the way I used to...

and I heard a broken bird chirp.
somewhere, a ceramic flower bloomed;
half, hidden, would panoramas in small

easter eggs spill lavish tears?
well, they did the best they could.
in the china painted grass.

revolving in-place, the castles,
carousels stood
just as pink and blue,

a little less crenellated.
maybe, has it really been years?
a year is an orbiting tune

she almost chimed,
played through.
my stars are few.

I cried.

oh bandaged music
split clear through
how will I hear you now

from a chirring wilderness
bleeding a fractured song
on the hand hooked rug

and its gardens

mary angela douglas 28 august 2014