In A Mild Climate Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

In a mild climate
When trees are dreaming
We are all their clouds
And no shadows pass across the orangeade sun
Because it is all gold
As though Heaven had arrived not that
Incognito on the morning milk trains
And children drowse as though breaking
Into flowers were the usual thing to do
We will eat tangerines
And wear indigo and lemon in silver rooms
And tell extravagant stories
To the clocks
So that pleasantly distracted they will forget
To tell time and let the picnics go on all day
Now like spun honey the afternoons have come
To trumpet the fairytale endings beginning again
And with a flourish of magenta, writing our names
In cursive in coloured chalks
No rains can begin to erase
We shall proceed so Christmas merrily
As though nothing at all
Were wrong with the world
And all the forests remained enchanted.
mary angela douglas 10 may 2024