in the Christmas town by the sea
or under the Christmas tree
in the star flecked snows
or what we thought were those;
tree skirts all confetti
and we'll send off in the mail
for the aurora borealis
just for selling Christmas cards
in July to the crabby housewives
drinking up all the tea all
summer long and the clinking sound
of ice in the glass was a musical one to us.
as were so many things.
the froth of ice cream shakes
the little bake oven and its spongy cakes.
we lived in dream town
lilacs over the back fence
at least in our readers
and pink flowers clambering too
though you couldn't say for sure
which kind they were.
we'll live there one day
that is what we thought
and pack our trunks with
costumes from the fairy tale plays
on our way
to the town of perfect friendship
having mastered our spelling by then
and all the word problems
in the back of the book.
mary angela douglas 24 november 2016