The Day You Think You Will Have

maybe it will be the one tied up in silver curling ribbons
the jeweled ship coming back from the far seas
your saint's day, a day all candlelit

even with the sun out.
maybe it's the day the bill collectors forget to call.
when the protesters go home

to read something happier than
what was scrawled on the wall
by someone bitter past repair.

maybe it will be the day you dare
to ride the roller coaster
or to stop drowning your sorrows.

the day your hitherto unknown silver mine uncle's
will pops up in the mail
in your favor.and you the only heir

or a day with a hard candy savor.
snow sparkles in the air
or maybe the day that opens onto

a lifelong grief that flowers into God

a day of wreaths and of putting under sod
whom you loved best in the world
the numbing day when just an instant before

you noted with glory the

shadows on the floor were singing
the familiar ones
on honey stained wood.

the day upended
or the day of the crystal stair.
the beckoning throne

the burnished pear tree
loveliest in all the kingdoms known
has flowered into this day.

you own.

mary angela douglas 22 august 2017