What's In The Attic Up There? (Final Version) Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

what happens to the messages we left on window panes in frost
to soap bubbles when they popped
at rainbow ripeness why didn't our hearts stop at
the fantastic openings of birthday presents strewn with crepe
paper bells
and strawberry ice cream or in the secret
swell of tears at night when we couldn't find any comfort in
the cloud dark skies; no confetti;
minutes, silver minutes passing by where are you melting to
are you put by in God's great attic in the sky by commiserating
angels along with old wooly planets, expiring stars,
penumbras, dolly wedding veils:
the twilight maps of who you are, were, may be
moon bright as organdy or gone to sea
when the compass needle settles;
the gold foil off old gingerbread
a la Mary Poppins...small scuffed shoes,
one pink mitten;
my long lamented evergreens,
where are you

mary angela douglas 10 january 2022; 23 march 2023