weeping coins of chocolate in the snow
the sugar-plum tree still shimmers
with its long-ago.
I've castled all my castled
on the checkerboard afternoon
and all the pieces are
pure crystal.
I can't begin to say how
much I've missed
the flurries of hard candies
with raspberry centers-
the lemon sun.
open the window
so the pink light
on the floor
will grow into a rose
we will not trample.
mary angela douglas 15 december 2011
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