how shall I lift my heart above the clouds
where the rain lives wondered the little girl
in a long sleeved dress
breathing into her bouquet of small pink roses
on a Saturday, she imagined herself this way
and let the dolls play by themselves for awhile
they were SO well educated
in the things that mattered
having heard all she had to say
and twice on every other Sunday;
sundaes are for another day in summer
with caramel winds and the green grass mowed
like a perfume found on Grandmother's dressing table
I remember far away things as if they were near again
or almost
glinting like foil stars in the Heavens
in the colours of Giotto
and I will remember this day she did not think
because this day was surely already forever
in my stocking feet and skipping on sidewalks
that will always always be here
even if one day the earth falls into the sea
where we all will be mermaids
hand in hand on the surface and singing.
mary angela douglas 27 april 2023
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