Carousel

To my Grandmother Lucy, my Mama "The Princess'

and to my sister Sharon on her birthday...

you can't live on the carousel forever

I could imagine her saying

when I was candy appled

with the stars nearby

and our yard at home

seemed to me more favorable

than any country yet born.

who knew then how ribbons would fend

or the small cologne we bought

at the drug store to be rose imbued.

at the cotillions.

or a small notebook, and a green pen

to write in green oh evergreen words again: oh

what is this round trip in time

with no ticket station

I would ask my nation

of dolls and there would be a pause

and they would say so many surprising things.

gather our gemstone rings of glass

from the gum machines at last we know what Song is for

and we won't be dissuaded from picking up

blue jay feathers from the ground

and the Arkansas milky quartz I found, I felt was like pearl

when I was a little girl wearing velvet.

and like the littlest angel from a tale at Christmas told

we'll keep it in our pockets so we won't grow old

these souvenirs from earth

so when the sheep are folded in the emerald fields

and the last tinted sunset peals

we won't feel that alone.

mary angela douglas 19 august 2019