Dream Of A Not So Ridiculous Man (Final Version) Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

(for Mikhail Bulgakov and others)

pavlovian bells swung out over Moscow
how good to drink apricot juice in a tomb
resuming work on an ill starred manuscript
camped in the shadows
of the darkness at noon
I am tired, wept the princess
of living onstage
of lemon forsythia endless bouquets
I know that it's Christ, not Pilate, who saves;
that the dreaming soul gets a little bit raw
pretending deep winter is just a Spring thaw.

mary angela douglas 27 december 2021; 27 march 2023