We Would Rather

though the day be like a crystal fruit and the glaze on it

of diamonds and topaz, rubies she exclaims, ready to drop into the jewel box of the Princess

still, we would rather have, my sister and I

strawberry shortcake,with Mama or all the ice cream in a malted shake
on a Sunday afternoon and Grandfather asks

do you want that with Hershey's syrup?

and we look up all saucer eyed with joy and whisper yes
still in our Sunday dresses from church. don't spill that on yourselves

our Grandmother says. in her caramel voice and we say eagerly
oh no, of course we won't. and we dont.

though the night be splendid and woven from silk
and the moon like buttermilk churned in a Grecian urn
still we would rather have our allowance dug from our

Grandfather's pockets earned,
when we get good grades

so that we can buy school paperbacks all the rage or of all the classics in our parade of pennies
and read away all the summer days, the piano days too (after

practicing, Grandmother)and after chores

pushing ourselves off into the swings of reading and in our scuffed shoes Grandfather will polish again by noon on Saturday

and when we are paper dolling it up in our blue room.

mary angela douglas 11 july 2020