the things that can catch your sleeve on the way upstairs
from the dream depths
gold leaf on the branches of the overhanging trees
a thistle of unease
one lone pebble you picked up for your pocket
that on waking showed up as a ruby
none of the things that are your duties
a warbling bird
green as meadows
how very absurd
and bits of fluff from the stars
of course, a magic cloak
a new frock coloured light rose
an address book of clouds
and slippers that by design
will shine and shine and shine
and never wear out.
mary angela douglas 4 march 2023
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