that summer I relived the Caucus Race
the once in the Alice books events and we were given comfits
wrapped in coloured foil but the exchange rate was terrible
we were all young meandering
and an organizing voice from nowhere said now we're all going to run together
and run and run like an invisible conductor of a squawking music
but where I thought so loudly my words almost came out in the open
into little pink balloons and lingered above my head
and got trampled I laughed and said this is not a good idea for short people
no one will see me (they never do) and I will get stepped on in the grass
who was there to ask suddenly there was in this dream a wonderous transformation
more wished for deeply down than expressed but who cares how it happened;
with little sandwiches of jam and butter suddenly
it happened I ran slightly toward the back of the dream and found myself
in a delicious bookstore, better than caramels in foil quickly finding the section
with the children's books of yesteryear with their charming illustrations
I ran in place while leafing through them and was so happy that i had got out of the stupid race without even
having planned a thing and then I saw children happy as the day who had figured it all out too
who left the trackless track and wandered back and back into the riches
of the heart and mind, into lost time thanks be to God for infinite kindness
for relieving us of blindness
and recovered it irrevocably and all that gipsy music too
and Alice in a frock more rose than blue, a fresh pinafore
facing a small glass door...
mary angela douglas 16 march 2021
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