THAT THERE SHOULD BE LILACS TOO

to live in a small house, not too small

with a stained glassed window in the front hall

of clambering roses and the roses, magenta

with peridot, emerald leaves

once was a dream

I kept under

lock and key

and sun motes  in the parlour

with a spinnet piano

the sun, through of course lace curtains, cream

and outside all around, the oak sheltering trees

the skies of cerulean

tinged by pink toward evening. every evening

it doesnt seem to ask too much

that there should be lilacs too

and the magic stewpot on the stove

the kitchen in buttercup yellow

will you laugh that the bookshelves seem

as if tilting toward the sun

from the weight of the worldwide fairytales

I collected since gradeschool, the castle scenes

the village green

the children about

with lunar schemes

their ladders of gold

vanishing

into the clouds.

mary angela douglas 21 january 2023