No Magic Word

reading old books at home
oh let the pages turn the wind
the clocks wind down again

have there ever been angels
like this before ask the clouds
almost out loud

you are reading to yourself
outside the world becomes snow
becomes the trees that graze the skies

and all the reasons why disappear
through the bubble wand haze
bubbling up from your primer school days

and the primrose laden

and the fairy tales regained
in primary colors
the fingerpainting hours reclaimed

on glossy paper shiny to the touch.
is it so much to ask to have
the tinsel down from the Christmas attic

and it not even Christmas
or the magic carpet rolled up in the corner
suddenly spring open

though you have said
no magic word.
and have neglected your dusting all day.

mary angela douglas 29 may 2017