the sand of a moment in my shoe,
then I am dressed in a gown of pearl
thought Cinderella, queen of marveling
as she whirled on tiptoe, star
to star entranced
in a dance of crystal
whirred by chance
and fortune and a glance
across centuries, still,
where you are sitting in your living room
and thumbing through a green blue storybook or two
and she's in a gown all aqua and peach
just getting out of the carriage...
in a world just out of reach
to you, not far from born yourself
and barely reaching the shelf
and a few summers old
when the june thunderstorms
turn gold in the afternoon...
the book in your hand, to stars.
mary angela douglas 2 august 2016