You Would Think

you would think
an angel with a pink harp
had come out of the woodwork

we were so happy when our birthday
cakes had pink roses on them
and pink matching ice cream.

then presents wrapped in blue
tied with pink ribbons and
the box with the doll

blue too, like skies in Spring
with deep pink tiny roses
criss crossed, sprinkled all over it.

I will go in the backyard now
where we will drink in the shade orangeade
and eat little hamburgers, gold with mustard.

and I will retrieve a good luck clover.
and we will speak in clouds of glass blown

pink bubbles over our heads
as in perfect comic strips
folded tiny in

the bazooka bubble gum wrappers.
and we will laugh at elephant jokes and our
little dog with us running in the past

brought back to life without the leavened bread.
and we will call this (she said solemnly)
in a moment of whipped creamed drifted inspiration

on all the strawberries God ever made:

"Heaven."

mary angela douglas 12 january 2016