FROM A SILVER LADLE

 

FROM A SILVER LADLE

Nailing the floorboards down with golden nails

Washing the diamond dust from the windowpanes

I let the rains, the sleet

I look out to see the world of the ice storm

Encrusted with gems

And the bare branches scraping against the violet sky

And I drink canned soup

From a silver ladle

Its minestrone

While dreaming of gazpacho

And summer tomatoes

In bare feet I pray as if God were a cloud

In a cloudy way; oh Im still twenty

On the rooftop of straw to

Slumber so under the the rose printed quilt

I was bequeathed; 

Lined with fleece, gift of the angels.

nary angela douglas 9 may 2024