when we grew up
never stopping to think
how difficult it might turn out to be
to pirouette in frosting
or to make it seem like
part of the choreography in quite a
natural way when we bent down perhaps
to nibble a butter cream rose.
but in the game of let's suppose
it isn't a rule to think of contingencies
when you are only three, or even four
or even to parachute down logistically
in quite an Emerald town
with your wishes well in hand
without fainting from the sight
of the Winged Monkeys.
as hard as we tried to hold a thought
we'd lose the key to the castle
by the very next day
when we would play something else
or wake to another dream entirely:
a trail of sequins from neglected tulle
a pink glow, a random cast off jewel
the only evidence left on the nursery floor
with the toys discomfited of yesterday as if to say,
perhaps to chide us, don't you remember...
when we were playing school.
mary angela douglas 9 january 2017