There Were No Damask Roses In The Garden Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

there were no damask roses in the garden
imagine a story that starts this way, a novel,
a play, the lament of a princess mistranslated
oh, an art song
a treatise on philosophy
an ordinary day without pockets
with a peppermint candy slipstream
while missing tangerines and counting up the
gold of days that remain to you
the chocolate covered gold of Christmas long ago
the berry coloured tints of childhood
glassed in, the sweets of what could have been yesterday's
infinite afternoon, or the backyard novas.
mary angela douglas 16 september 2023