After Awhile

we'll live like gypsies after awhlle
or at least, the ones in folktales
and live in places under the stars

with no bugs.
and beat the rugs until they shine
like fairy gold.

maybe we-ll find
abandoned castles
with the feasts newly laid

in summer, sudden shade.
and lemonade.
and children will grow used

to the sound of the sea
and need nothing from the earth anymore
but a secret door

into God.
a million scarves
the color of sunsets.

hope as blue as larkspur.

mary angela douglas 9 september 2018