Friday, December 05, 2014

I Have Friends In A Box

I have friends in a box.
beneath a screen.
I think I have.

I tap on the blue blue glass
as if it were the sky 
summoning angels.

the things I say are kept by clouds;

don't drift away!
I have worlds under glass
awake when I'm asleep

long past the meridians
of what used to be
 called dreams;
 (or countries. 

my houses with no furniture.
drawers I can't open.
letters I'll never tie

with any green silk ribbon.
much at arms length
rich as a click away.

yet sometimes I wonder
if on a winter's day, alone at the bus stop
I suddenly decide to sing the way I used to:

will there still be clouds in the air?

mary angela douglas 5 december 2014