Still In The Present Tense I Wander Through Old Rooms

still in the present tense I wander through old rooms
discarding what I cannot use keeping the silver buttons
the embroidered shoes

the pack of notebook paper from another century.
it isn't winter here or spring or fall
it isn't anything at all:

a terminal filled with light
where I'll remain a little while longer
waiting for a bus a train

like you do in dreams

and you get on
if they let you
without knowing where

or even caring.
I care. I say somehow deeper down
though never bonding with the

town I'm in now and feeling it is the terminal
in the end filling up with fog on
any pretext.

soon I will recover from the State I'm in
the geography that doesn't make sense
and put the rooms to right

flick on the rose pink nightlights
absentmindedly chew the gold doubloon wrapped
chocolates gone too soon

the cherry vanilla stash consumed
the ashes swept the coach arrives
gilded with a new sunrise

and I am going there.

mary angela douglas 16 january 2016