[to Ray Bradbury (again)]
somewhere kneeling on a dandelion shore
like old explorers coming home
perhaps we'll meet you
in your beatific horn rims beaming
fresh sheafs of paper in your hands
ready to scatter
confetti for the children
up their in the Heights.
until then we'll make up our own stories.
wishing we had the keys to the story files you left;
who has them now?
is there some clerical mistake? you'll ask in
Mars-Heaven.
I've got to go back and finish them.
mary angela douglas 27 january 2016
somewhere kneeling on a dandelion shore
like old explorers coming home
perhaps we'll meet you
in your beatific horn rims beaming
fresh sheafs of paper in your hands
ready to scatter
confetti for the children
up their in the Heights.
until then we'll make up our own stories.
wishing we had the keys to the story files you left;
who has them now?
is there some clerical mistake? you'll ask in
Mars-Heaven.
I've got to go back and finish them.
mary angela douglas 27 january 2016
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