to fall across the equators on the school maps
was common to Alice in occasional naps
to trip on the roots of trees
to scrunch through the keyholes
scuffing her knees
to pin all hope on a summer breeze
and a light blue dress
never meant to impress
with lace on the sleeves
and a jam tart, oh please.
mary angela douglas 19 september 2021
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem