and you'll go out like a person in a fairytale
seeking your fortune
leaving behind too late you realize
your sleight of hand
your bright silk handkerchiefs.
never mind.
you'll make stew from pebbles.
houses from straw.
draw water with a stick:
whole pails of it.
they'll think you strange in the village.
you'll sing at the edge of town
on Sundays the bells will float out to you
as if you were drowning-
mary angela douglas 9 december 2014
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