Will We Have Horses Shod In Gold

[prolonged reverie after filling out the forms for social services]

will we have horses shod in gold

no longer asked the child

under an apple white moon

for a little while,

and then- not.

or lugging a lunch pail

brimmed with berries

with hunks of marigold buttered bread

there she stands in the sunlight

in a ray from Heaven

as in old lithographs

with peach skies.

why did we throw their worlds away

I wondered to myself where wondering

was not allowed

but no one said I'll show you where

there's cherries under the snow

and we won't starve

eating the brown bread we baked

in our immemorial summers

dripping with the honeycomb.

yet- I was fed

mary angela douglas 18 september 2014