Our Shadows On The Grass

we turned around as if we were on a music box
so carefully, our pink skirts flaring
or at the birthday parties blindfolded

spun out in the best direction
and the buttercream rose on the cake slice saved.
I loved then even our shadows on the grass

and looming on the summer sidewalks.
and now I think of summer in winter time
where before it was the other way round

and I am infinitely glad and sad at the same time
taking my wishes back to wish better ones now
so that our shadows on the grass will return

the way we found them, then
when the world was made of emeralds
and the moon in Oz.

mary angela douglas 23 december 2017