climbing out of the pit on toy ladders
we waved gaily to the neighbors
to the cream fresh picket fences
and the gladioli.
how glad we are to be out of there, we laughed
and the sun laughed with us and the fresh frozen waffles.
the violet shadows on the rose beds.
even the natural cherry cough syrup.
what a bad dream we had at the office
till the toys woke us up,
the insistent bears.
look everyone, everywhere, they said.
their paws expressing over enthusiasm
which was of course their norm:
it's always Spring. we're always born.
the sky is ridiculously blue
the pictures in our old school readers,
finally coming true.
mary angela douglas 14 december 2021;28 march 2023
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