when snow clouds form in dreams about the prairie
I feel somehow reborn as if everything here
could be secretly made out of crystals
and the air itself holds so much crystal
it is an amazement.
I wanted to walk for a long long while
just tasting the crystal in a kind of prescient way
I felt that bells rang out from the clouds or could or would
making it Christmas day
a glittering expectation not in a society way
not social at all
purely hushed for the soul and reconfiguring
invigorating so that your cheeks blushed cold
and you could hold the note in the song
so that the clouds drifting angels bent down
as if listening in a silver kind of way
and the winds whistling as if from the far North
fairy tales
passing the corner as I did then, with them,
the out of date store fronts
it's all whirling I thought
there will never be anything more beautiful
mary angela douglas 24 september 2019
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