oh sorrowful wait and whither!
shooting great silently-followed askings into the sky
those hollow-dregged rockets pinging
fast flotsam
while the wealth of youth
dangles
in full-bellied life-giving raindrops
off my fingertips,
lackluster explosions drawing away from
the jewel-like reality
of this full sheet
drying on the line,
some party toga,
a pitched and youthy fort,
a bundling of many things
into a close-comforted treasure
for a far journey,
a sharp-shapely delineator
to mark a feasting
in the wide world of nature
and our bright days,
a softness
between the rocks
and our curling bodies,
a warmth to keep
these pillowed tools
at rest
to keep
the dust off
as we settle
and step away through doorways
far & wildly illuminated,
a white backdrop
for your moving adventure
anchored off weathered stories
and glowing trees,
a frame
opaque with
all the colors
of your possibility.

here again,

a sheet,

on the line,

full,

like a many-monthed belly
calm-pond waiting
for that soulful breath
of wind
to move it
in fantastic shapes.