When You Remember

there are dreamlike moments when the unthinkable happens

time is paused and the glass slipper slips from her hands

who could guess prisms could compound such a shattering so

that there seems to be no blue bird near at hand.

you remember the summer marigold or was it the moon

turned marigold and we sipped apricot nectar, chilled.

practicing all afternoons the piano scales.

time is not paused except in the music, when you play it over

when you reconsider the sound was everywhere.

it fell softly like

snow, composing you.

mary angela douglas 8 january 2020

And I Was Sipping In The Cherry Dark

and I was sipping in the cherry dark
the whole summer as it first appeared.
the early years;

the golden tinge.
so much hinges on the fact that the  fairytales
did not surprise me,

seeming only an extension of our little house.

I will wear a cherry sundress
when I go back I notified the time machine
and set the dials for a little while

even if it's midnight,packing a picnic
and pinwheels streaked in pink and green;
viewmaster slides

of the Disney castle.

when I arrive,
I hope to find the right house.
you know, with the roof all shingled with candies.

and no oven.

mary angela douglas 6 novemer 2015

Where Did All The Stage Sets Go, Ray Bradbury

where did all the stage sets go, Ray Bradbury
I wanted to ask him; it seemed like he
might know, if I'd been a relative.

well he was, though.

did we pack them in mothballs or did we
forget to bolt the cellar door
and then, the cyclone was upon us.

of course, the house came with us;
it did for Dorothy. but the furnishings?
it's a good day when you can remember

even one thing
that used to be in the cupboard.
what you poured into the jelly glass

on a sticky summer day.
two scoops, or three?
and did you leave the back door open

when it rained?

were storms clouds the same purple
you see nowadays or were they
more extravagant.

you tell me
whom you didn't even know.
I know it's somewhere in a story.

you wrote long ago
I just haven't gotten to yet.

try to remember. try harder.
they don't build attics now.
we're the attics.

isn't it so.

mary angela douglas 19 march 2015

Jellybean Poems In A Jar Of Summer Glistened

jellybean poems in a jar of summer glistened.

we scoop them by handfuls and never one by one

splurging on flavors under a strawberry sun

with whipped cream clouds

I added pinkly waiting for summer paperbacks

to come: ordered six weeks ago.

they're here! brown paper wrapped but not for long.

the dog barks by the embroidered divan intuiting fun:

a candyland of summer reading; screen doors shielding, sodas

creaming, deeper lemon shadows on the kitchen walls are dreaming:

banana splits with Hershey's syrup surfeited; fireworks on the lawn;

linen dresses on Sundays, or seersucker striped in pastel hues;

piano pieces in the cool cool house of the cut gardenias...

barefoot dancing down the hall.

when we were small.

mary angela douglas 3 march 2015,14 april 2015

Architects, Amaze Me! Commanded Ray Bradbury, Heart Full Of Wonders

imagine a museum of roller coasting tales

of wild eyed carousels, the rain stippled horses

of far legend

a museum of winds. of rains:

the pattering, the misunderstood and now redeemed jeweled beadings on old windowpanes, on roofs the color of fire

imagine...

a museum of green rivers and greener trees

and summer dioramas and children brimming over

with field flowers.

even then, is it enough?

in a corner of stained glass radiance

rosier than Chartres

with isinglass rose petals opening

on the day:

a yellow house

is not torn down is not torn down is not

torn down.

is here.

to stay.

mary angela douglas 26 february 2015

The Clouds Fall Down They Call It Snow

did she spill rose light on the floor she thought perhaps
or pull the curtains and then it was night and if you
pull them again will it be day

the clouds fall down
they call it snow
music comes out of my Grandmother's grand piano

whenever she sails the ivory keys she dispenses
the chocolate squares wrapped in silver foil
the dog wants in when it rains and joins in

all our games did
we spill happiness on the rugs, on the pale sofa with
the bright pillows?

i drew the curtains back and it was summer
glorious summer said Hans Andersen
giving the flowers their names

and I thought, cornflower blue
are the mermaid's eyes she must be crying
how are rainbows made through prisms

what are willows? what is on tv
Walt Disney lives in his own kingdom.
so do we

mary angela douglas 8 february 2015