to the children lost in the ether
or to sudden fevers
or taken away in prairie fires
in unexpected blizzards.
to the ghost haunted:
with aching hands on the spinet
and no sheet music
to those who never had
fairy stories read to them;
were never tucked in
under the eiderdown
unless it were everlasting snows.
or who didn't live live long enough
to roll doll carriages in the sunlight
as though they were fine ladies
or to play with pink silk parasols.
or let the chocolate "melt in their hands".
to those who color crayoned only
wars of the everyday
and lived in the Land
of the sudden things thrown
barely missing their target;
recipients of the skewed valentines at School;
the unmistakable eye roll.
unreturned greetings;
who wept for ribbon candy
under a molasses sun
that could not dry, not ever,
the honey of their tears-
to those, for years
skirting the bright red maples
in hand-me-down dresses
two sizes too small
who never saw blue frocks on birthdays
all the way from Paris
with huge bows at the back;
sweet collars of lace.
or cap and ball in summer.
or a lemonade palace,a Christmas tree
glittering in the front room
with expectation of more...
who had no tickets to the World Fairs.
who had no tickets to the World Fairs.
to those left out at school
who fought with the cave shadows
and could not win at marbles, tiddliwinks
who wore out the earth
with the soles of their feet
running from trouble with a sinking feeling.
to those not sung to sleep
may your summons from Heaven one day come true:
glad roses and gladiola be flung before your feet
and all the crystal clear birds sing
in the larch trees
in the larch trees
only only for you through a transparent greenness
of the home with bright curtains floating in the wind-
with honeysuckle in old mysterious jars
and gilded gingerbread forever
mary angela douglas 29 april 2014
