Little Candles (Final Version) Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

for Ray Bradbury, and for my grandparents,
remembering their 'utility' drawer in the kitchen
====================
one should always keep little candles
frosted pink, pale yellow in the drawer
a few of the light blue too
with the brown paper lunch sacks and twine

with the Burpee seeds of purple futuristic Springs-
for the unexpected birthdays, the sealing wax
and carpet tacks, emergency candles too
in case of storms coming through but I
think more of
the cakes with their sudden roses
hard candy roses 10 to a pack.

you wouldn't walk off a cliff without your
wings, would you? icarus's grandmama scolded
thinking he was still a child in love with

the golden, the golden days, 'not that drawer, honey...'
the s and h stamps I need under the wrench
one should be always be floating near
the little candles, in the drawer my dear

with the rusty railroad hammer, the greeting
cards you meant to send for the unexpected birthdays
of the ghostly friends, for icarus as a child

in the broad meadows flying in his
brand new tennis shoes with the
spongy soles under the
sun that can't go out you know
on just anyone's wish or say-so
even when the orchard looks partly cloudy
no matter how hard the wind blows.

mary angela douglas 12 february 2015; 18 november 2023