I'm holding the ladder to who knows where
and who is climbing there
I cannot see
let pink tissue clouds fly by the rungs
and polish the silver of the children's haloes
I'm holding the ladder for someone else
let lights be swung in colors mystifying
missing the cues but we're going on anyway
scene after scene I'm losing the lines
and not prepared or asked to be
but here's the cottage
with the roof of pink sugar
only I know.
the turtledoves; oh, let it be understood,
the heart of papier mache, sweet
slippers of mauve or blue
laced up anew for someone else's gold ballet.
and I'm holding still the way I should
not marring the picture
perfect crystal of the choirs;
the fairytale motto, over the door
mary angela douglas 4 october 2013
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