using what was plausible, we didn't make much progress.
but there was magic in the little things:
cast off finery, multicoloured strings, the skeletons of kites
and budding twigs.the gumdrop rings, the wisp of clouds reflected
in the drains; the costume brooch without its pin
old pencil leads on days it rained
and then: old wishes long forgot, forget me knotted up
with pennants from Arthurian Towers,
valentine bowered, the mislaid hours
and telegrams, and garlanded,
the autographs of friends in the long ago
and sepia toned. Christmas gift wrap rewrapped,
ghost ship manifests...old kitchen mop, golden
cough drop, cabinet spice
that lasted for years, the panoply
of childhood tears with their candied rewards.
odd things in jars, the medals from the war, the
whirligig scars, and ice cream bars...
paint from old toyshop windows, glue from gilt stars
pasted on our reports, the startle of gold leaves released
in november winds and then blue jay feathering it
beach day weathering it
you said to yourselves on a day
of Christmas pageant wings and wonderings,
oh I believe
soon we will fly like the leaves...
mary angela douglas 4 october 2016
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem