Friday, June 03, 2016

In The Arkansas Woods

we trailed our lily hands in the waters
to little avail at summer camp;
since they were sunburned before sundown

and the town with penants
just never appeared. the distant, towered
though the ferns uncurled when it rained

and the perfumes then from the earth
were fantastical and we were walking
and singing under starlight

in the Arkansas woods
coming back in time for orangeade
for toasting marshmallows

and the sparks flew up
as if they were stars 
from another kingdom

and had been
called home.

mary angela douglas 3 june 2016