To Sleep Like Dust On The Surface Of All Things Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

have you been in the corridors of dream when

your luggage falls off the racks but you think it belongs

to someone else so you keep reading the airline magazine



and watch near the wing the cumulus kingdoms pass

or you're on the train and they never come to stamp your ticket

as though you are a ghost and ride the rails for free



even though you're slightly dressed for the office

or someone as you used to be trips down the path in a vague

dream town



and it's you in the blue dress you had forgotten about only this

time around

it's rose and in between



the clocks have stopped ticking as in an ancient fairy tale

where the spinning wheel dooms us all

one afternoon



to sleep like dust on the surface of all things.



mary angela douglas 13 august 2020