Tuesday, July 31, 2018

The Playhouse As It Was Then

that's where the rain comes in we said
happily patching the patches instead
of what they thought we should do with the tarpaper,...

and starlight too and the moonlight
when its clouded and silver slips through
our dreams and the screen door

partly fastened.
years on we dreamed of the playhouse
how it would be the tree branches across the one window.

tapping in sympathy

how we could we could make it from
leaves and sticks pink bricks
lime green shutters o please, the one rosebush...

a slate blue teapot bubbling
a chintz rose print for curtains
one doll dressed in pink,

auburn curls.and pearls.
we would wear golden slippers there
the ones our Grandfather sang about

and play we were at the county fair
with a booth for raspberry lemonade.
I know we weren't the first to

dream this way;nibbling on royal pbjs.
I pray we weren't the last.

mary angela douglas 31 july 2018