Rainy Saturdays, Consulting The Dictionary Of Prisms Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

such things to do on a rainy Saturday we children knew
such as thumbing through the dictionary of prisms
the birds of the world in tinted photographs
the spectrum as it all breaks down for the color wheels

of the saints
into a thousand thousand Christmas colours at their zenith
and Space as seen in indigo, even in ultraviolet.
this is how I remember Saturday and especially
summer freedoms, the days of the jeweled rains
when telling time
by the rainbows on the wall was superfine

as child bright ardour
even in a squall was more than a pastime struck by
the endless refractions of light into magical brinkmanship:
the seed pearl destinations of the dolls
the birds going nowhere
somewhat stationary on the page
but so resplendent, visionary
our book reports on the field guide to the gems
of North America, using every crayon we had.
and how my little sister sparkled in the thought of peridot green.
mary angela douglas 29 august 2021