What Will Seeing Be Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

losing your map of the constellations
what will seeing be
anymore?

the clocks say 'nebulae',
'nebulae' moving
across town

will not solve it.

like Alice on a summer day
you're late in dreamland
a little off guard

leaving your equations behind
you in the summer yard.
your notebook and the new pencils.

oh what will you say to
them at teatime
when they don't pass the cake.

you're on your own now.
half way smile the cheshire cats while
somewhere on another block

shine beyond shining the
spring constellations
over the baby rosebuds

'and the rich sleep of whose gardenias?
what is all this weeping'

said the Red Queen.
I won't have it.

mary angela douglas 19 may 2015