oh christmas window in the downtown area
where the dolls move from side to side carefully
pouring their infinite tea;
dressed in christmas velours! by a doll-sized Tree!
wide eyed, will they never look directly at us?
but then, they might spoil their attire.
their mothers might scold.
who cares, there's snow on the glass;
behind us a sky like cranberries
hand painted and an otherworldly lighting
from somewhere we both feel
(my Grandmother and I)
beauty stricken at the same time
standing before the scenery if not yet, the Play
in the same candlelit hush:
pre-Edison, branching angels
mary angela douglas 3 february 2015
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