maybe we were meant to go on dream errands
seeking the golden lemons for our tea
slicing the bread more thickly than we could
in real life.
thinking in summer clouds.
half way through the dream you remember
someone required you to bring back silver buttons
or the pink pearlized kind like knobs on a fairy's treehouse door.
I really did walk through meadows then.
the burrs catching on my skirts of blue violet
and I felt like the lady with the green parasol
in Monet's painting
standing on that ridge.
you will say I imagined it all.
but I didn't.
some of it really happened.
mary angela douglas 4 july 2020
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