Friday, November 07, 2014

Cobbling The Moon Into The Skies

cobbling the moon into the skies
the storied tell you not to cry
and you believed them.

golden vanilla is the sigh
that floats into a winter dream.
one roller skate on and one is lost

somewhere in the living room
but you didn't skate anyway you only longed to-
to say in out loud cherry dreaming:

snow.  and canned pears icy in
a pale green bowl. and sleigh bells
sleigh bells creche in the window

sill glow I trace in the mist
with my mittened fingers until until-
old spelling lists appear before Christmas:

mimeograph and graph and
pink and green mapped
ancient scrolls

have I misplaced you?
mispronounced your names?
oh fancy coloured diamonds

of the orange in cloves
the drug stores bows, the last minute wrapping
of the last of the chocolate cherries, jewel

box set in Mother of pearl
dear Christ  may all your kingdom comes
remember what I fail to please because you can

cobble the dream into a child to last
born into the wildness of this world
and it will be spangled Christmas

anytime we breathe Your name and
multi-bulbed as Hollands in the Trees
and shining shining icicle tossed and turned

pedaling the winters into Spring
up the long hill,
out of the back yard, now

where Snow began,
the overarching stars

mary angela douglas 7 november 2014