Oh World Where It Often Happens

oh world where it often happens
the fairytale's bitten off at the stem
so that it can

no longer flourish or
the rainbow bales are pitched
too far from here

so that the horses cannot feed
and run away
and we must run after them

coaxing them back with impossible apples
all made of gold enwrought of former
happiness ah

tilted moons over the village
and lilacs all afternoon
we watched you blown in

a silver wind and all this
even without pretending!
will it not come to pass

then sighed the older child
the older man, alas,
the lady with one rubied shoe

at last at the last
sunset hour
where it still might all happen anyway...

I can't say otherwise

mary angela douglas `15 september 2015