The Playhouse Dreamed: The One With Tuliped Curtains Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

the tulips on cream curtains glow
in brilliant red, in purple, orange
convincing you you're in Holland

and perhaps you know Van Gogh
and are kind to him
and he paints in your backyard

which somehow is enormous.
and this is where the clouds stand still
in fantastic swirls of blue

the air vibrates around the poplars
longing for the entire spectrum

and the stars grow so huge
that Yellow drips from the moon.
you fix coffee for him and bread

with cheese, a little toasted.
he paints the pear trees as if
it were the last Spring

for the Universe.
as if the earth were his bride.

mary angela douglas 26 january 2015