did the rains stop for you as you crossed the street
holding your gown above the puddles?
then I imagine you on the train, the tram, the trolly
going home, with lilac thoughts
or standing in line at the picture show
or eating a sherbet made of rosepetals,
snow, or pineapple ice.
perhaps life was never this way.
perhaps you scrounged in the day to day
I cannot be sure.
in the photograph your gaze is heavenly.
mary angela douglas 12 july 2016