I Had Golden Apples

for Mama

I had golden apples in the second grade reader
and green ones at home.
and apple appliques sewed onto

my best jumper.
this was in apple days when
I carried my writing tablet in a

plaid satchel, the one with the wide
and broken lines in icy blue,alphabet
letters crowding thick as malteds there

the pencil shavings' perfume in the air

the workbooks making sure you
knew apples from oranges.
and saddle oxford shoes

I must have scuffed on the leaves
there being little else to do in gladness
than stare at the apple sun

even though they told us not to,
and the world so round.
and fairy like, the snow curbs

when they appeared
in the apple cold;
counting the crystals of frost

on the ground
like the days before Christmas...


sometimes on the days of gold
they served us
apple sauce cake

in the cafeteria.
then all the apple valentines
were mine

and Time itself,
construction paper red
taped to the windows
of the school room

and pasted on with too much glue;
sometimes with glitter
and sometimes it came off
but not the I Love You.

mary angela douglas 19 december 2015