you'll trudge on through the fairy wood all alone
the others having been taken by the hand,
led back another way
to where there is bread
spread with honey butter.
small doors shut tight
against the snows.
oh how unkind you cannot even think
in the finger freeze of the mittens dropped
along the roseless way.
you're on the brink of falling into
the well where no wishes are
until you see one star
floating on one scrap of cloud
above this sodden earth
and suddenly your soul begins to rise
above the dank strange sorrow
unpredicted in the schoolrooms.
no one to sigh over you then
they tsked on afterwards
as if they knew.
how could they.
ah, but
only through you
as though you were a looking glass
an open window
after awhile
after awhile
did they ever see anything!
the attending angel cried,
with nothing like a smile
mary angela douglas 20 march 2015
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