I Remember When We Were Standing Still

I remember when we were standing still
and the day was a drop of honey
beading on a spoon,

the spoon of silver made.
how intricate our delays seemed then
in the afternoons

like Florentine colours laid on

thickly one by one.
peach bloomed in the skies
over the cypresses

while
our shadows
embroidered like frescoes

the dreaming walls.
now the hours
do not come to me

when I call
but I must wait
at the gate of all the stars

God ever made
reading the night skies
like the apprenticed Magi

mary angela douglas 4 august 2017

by Mary Angela Douglas

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