Clouds (For The Immortal Poet John Keats, On His Birthday) Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

seeming to float above will they slip down in fogs

seeming to stray or follow the commerce of angels

the raspberry orange crepescular, the winnowing saints

dreading the rains, the diamond winds, will they? the snows

when they

disappear again my ruby splintered sighs will you rise again

I do not know said the child so softly only the cherry cirrus heard

driven away to join the circus herds; the air bourne birds of other

zones in

cotton candy birthday, birthday party clothes of

pinks and blues or summery or toward Oz

in lime green horizons, latitudes above the changeling,

emerald seas

who are you where have you been and for how long

continue continue in silent bells, ballets above the stratospheres

above the Christmases, the lawns in butterfly years, the blizzards

to come

conscious of nothing but maybe the sun, the glazing moon

unexpectedly gilding you as though you were

someone else's dream;

blown by as if you were harps of pearl and luminously

by the iridescence of trebling breezes seized

heart flung, creasing the stars, oh far catapulting swans

forming before huge storms and dim; .where will you end

drifting, never arriving between earth and sky

oh my quaint loves.my foremost citadels. my fragilest of friends.

mary angela douglas 31 october 2022