115 North Monroe

it's still the thing you were waiting to understand
through blue shadows on the hardwood
the floors upended, where are her sapphire rings

the seascape in the music room
the way it felt back then.
Keats and Shelley in a Modern edition

now ivoried with age
"to Mary from Joseph, with all my love"
and in an aqua binding

whose colour has been lost to

modern publishers
as if they swallowed the sea.
they all write about memory

just not yours.
will you go with your
small metal beach pail

to the sandbox again
overshadowed by pines
or with small steps crunching through

the fallen leaves into
the forest green neat little house

with the pale green awning;
the porch swing also the colour of  pines
the angels sitting on the steps

a long, long time
opening for you,
the screen door.

mary angela douglas 1 july 2019