Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Eating Red Velvet Cake With Premium Icing

eating red velvet cake with premium icing
my guardian angel smiled stickily-
scooping fresh lilies from the clouds…




It’s no use having that shimmer of expectant wings
I said, breaking the news as kindly as I could-
I’m not a painter;


and no one’s painting anymore the Madonna
standing tiptoe on Pink tissue clouds
while gazing straight up into unseen starlight
by a glittering residue in her oval face, surmised…
 

you could try, fluttered my angel
forgetting the Christmas clothes again
that gathered crumbs but  
trailing the late spring light, nostalgically-

start with crayons.


or a simple easel with a temporal sun.
(you mean, tempera, don’t you)

you know, the one in the corner of the page
you painted first, letting the colors run:
dressed in pure marigold by your Grandmother,

on your brightest day away from home



it seemed to you the house outlined in green

with a rose rose roof
could be played in, Infinitely…

I know how you feel I said-

but the angel cried into a cloud in the

late sun, losing light

don’t be afraid don’t be afraid
sad earth away from Christmastime;
what a waste of iris blue was set here in the

firmament the angel mourned not to be comforted,
it seemed-


perhaps, they’ll start again
softly I strummed the gathering twilight, overcome-
or the light mist falling suddenly-

they could remember (after school  

or the last job interview falls through-
or the last three red potatoes drop – unexpectedly-
one by rolling one on the subsidized linoleum)-


that once, there were harps…




mary angela douglas 25 september 2012

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