Wednesday, July 26, 2017


the way you thought of things when you were young
with the alphabet blocks at hand rimmed in
rainbow bands the flutaphone whimsy on the bus

or afterwards, unloading at the gates
the sunken ship feeling of homeroom
the locker combination forgotten

the sudden tests in the afternoon
all the paper dreads[

stolen lunch moneyed cacophony
of the cafeterias
and the way the pineapple upside down

cake stuck in your throat.
how glad you were
when the bus turned home

and toward the Christmas side of the year
when there was such a rich respite
that alone could have signalled HOLIDAY

in glisteningsemaphores
at the end of the line

let alone the birth
of the neglected Saviour
who watched over you then.

mary angela douglas 26 july 2017