The Merchant Returns To Beauty Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

here is the rose that cost me everything
he said
if only you had asked for peacock

diamonds, castles of aftermirage-sweet
dresses of orchid embroidery from the floss of
hummingbird wings, Viennese

tortes for breakfast lunch and dinner-
a brace of Firebirds
the end of human suffering;

one more golden breath...

here is the rose red as blood
that should not mean
what it means now

how could you know
what I know
and still live

tomorrow is a rose-red ship
breaking apart mid-
harbor

on a calm day.
while spectators gather

mary angela douglas 30 november 2009