I Wanted To Pack The Wind In A Jar

I wanted to pack the wind in a jar

so that wherever you might go
on any given summer day

you could open the jar
and there would be the wind
laughing at you

and fresh as lilies.
and in another jar
starlight, frozen.

for the ocasionally lost
at inconvenient times.
you open the jar:
\
and what a surprise,
you're feeling all celestial bright
and suddenly at a party

though it's late at night,
tomorrow's school

with coloured lanterns swaying
and pin the tail on the donkey games in the carport,
stereoscopic views of the Grand Canyon

and strawberrry ice cream.

suddenly I was thunderstruck
with many possibilities.
flowers in a jar for january

tied with a plaid gift ribbon
like in the women's magazines

and wooly sheep
to be let out into the fields in March.
they would have to be tiny

with the lid screwed on tight
so as not to make a commotion
and break the glass but then at last

they would run and play
resembling clouds in a way come down
clouds in the fields as far as

your eyes could see, baby clouds,
set free near the pines
where other children's ghosts played

Run Sheep, Run!
and Spring, all around you.

in a pink and blue design.

mary angela douglas 6 november 2017