IN A MILD CLIMATE (FINAL DRAFT)

 

IN A MILD CLIMATE

In a mild climate

When trees are dreaming

We are all their clouds

And no shadows pass across the orangeade sun

Because the world is all of gold foil

As though Heaven had arrived not that

Incognito on the morning milk trains

And children drowse as though breaking

Into flowers were the usual thing to do

We will eat tangerines 

And wear indigo and lemon in silver rooms

And tell extravagant stories

To the clocks

So that pleasantly distracted they will forget 

To tell time and let the picnics go on all day

Now like spun honey the afternoons have come

To trumpet the fairytale endings beginning again

And with a flourish of magenta, writing our names

In cursive in coloured chalks 

No rains can begin to erase

We shall proceed so Christmas merrily

As though nothing at all

Were wrong with the world

And all the forests remained enchanted.

mary angela douglas 10 may 2024;16 may 2024