to the last puffy cloud on the schoolroom wall
the one outlined in blue with a very large brush
held by a very small hand
I send my skyrocket regards
they won't make much noise
just my shadow through the grass
a brisk March wind
on P.T.A. nights when the stars glittering
made even the chalkboards seem enchanted
the parents and teachers, magical beings.
how will I remember you childhood
at the last moment
will I tilt the pink sand through the tiny hourglass again
or will I fall back asleep into the chocolate earth
knowing that in the morning
it will have to be Christmas Day
mary angela douglas 31 december 2021
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