ARCADIA, THE WORD IS LIKE A CHERRY LOZENGE
Arcadia, the word is like a cherry lozenge on the tongue
or butter rum candies my sister proposed
looking up from the swing sitting idle
in the sunlight
peripatetic golden child of music.
and now we're seeking the names of clouds,
off on our pastel expeditions
on picnic grounds, our own backyard
did we bring the coconut cake?
and we are far from trouble in the blue isles
sprouting wings and laughing sporadically
in cumulo nimbus, cumulo stratus, cirrus
cirrus, circuses in green and the tightrope lady
in pink sequined skirts
and this is our just desserts
we say, scooping into the fudge sundaes
or playing in the sprinkler on
hot Arkansas days
when the roses boil and grandfather
concocts historic rootbeer floats
the old fashioned way
when we make a wish on the Milky Way
that summer lasts at least until Christmas.
we have his word for it, smiles Grandfather.
mary angela douglas 28 june 2016;26 august 2022;28 february 2023
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