pouring our tea from the Royal Doulton
and we will eat little cakes
frosted in pink or white or chocolate
with ice cream to match.
Neapolitan, you sigh
and I rush out to a corner store
in a perfect neighborhood
where it's always on sale.
and now there's lemonade
by the pail and
sugared finely in the libby glass
tall and frosted while we watch
old movies and speak of the looking glass days
remembering old dolls with fondness.
then you say in a winsome way
there's only so many hours
to practice in the day,
even in hummingbird summers.
and you're on the way to your piano
while I make other plans for leaving home
not knowing there was so far left to go.
mary angela douglas 12 june 2016