In Case

I dreamed we passed through clouds without aeroplanes
and we were no one's Project
but lived as we pleased, in the meadows,

understanding the field flowers,
or, when it rained,
under the broader leaves

through the sunlit hours
where the light soared through us
in undocumented ways

as though we were prisms.

no census taken.
we became stars and twinkled
in such profusion

they gave up counting us.
and resigned from that illusion.
we became rich in ways

not easily recognized
making crowns of tinfoil,
crumpled candy wrappers

we crowned ourselves

and built our lean to's
near wishing wells
in case the elusive armies

no prisoners taken

and the dogs of blizzards
dormant, should suddenly awaken.

mary angela douglas 2 may 2019