in case of sudden emergencies.
and in the hollows of trees
in the thin alleys
where the rain trickles through
and in the nooks of
forgotten gardens, crooks of
skeletal trees where my birds sing:
cheered by the thought of
the small candies,
I grind the coffee for
the daily grind
and wind the clocks, so out of time.
someday the hordes will come
perhaps leaving neither stick nor stone.
then we'll creep out alone
my shadow and I, a multitude of books,
my God, my dearest God, a friend or two
out from under our mossy roofs,
our polka dot toadstools,
to retrieve them:
our small delectable delectables
starting all over again
with the aid of small candies!
mary angela douglas 20 june 2015;11 march 2016