I Can Be Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

you're going to need a shoehorn for that slipper

I heard a passerby exclaim

why there was always someone standing around


like a one person greek chorus interfering band

I don't know. Dear God. and with cymbals.

i don't know what the odds for it even are.


I lock my door. my golden key in hand.

they're still out there in the hallway;

self appointed in the land.


you're doing it wrong

whatever it is.

you plop the tablets fizz fizz fizz


it doesn't help.

so I go somewhere in my lovely clouded mind

and there I find


somewhere a place where no one says anything.

where its quiet as after a snowfall.

and the glaze is over it all.


the sky is dreaming again.

the leaves coated with ice

the roads of the empire all closed.


and I can think my thoughts and let them grow

like rosebuds into a gentle wind.

and I can be


without the tanks rolling in.


mary angela douglas 7 may 2020