Maybe I Have Invisible Friends

maybe I have invisible friends.
who would know if I did or not.
maybe I do...

usually you outgrow this.
pity. just when you need them possibly
the most.

my friends do not mock me at work.
or interrogate me on British authors.
they do not quibble when in a wavering voice

I sing the ballad of anything
I long to.
even with- with- an inordinate amount of

roses and cypresses in it.
even when I pretend I am weaving the web
and cannot look down look down upon Camelot

and then I do and the mirror flies apart
but it does not wound my invisible friends
who have already departed

for the mystical shores.

mary angela douglas 9 april 2016