If I glanced at you
from a stream of light
could I take the lead?
would it be
like being free
blindfolded
in the dark
all those warm nights
out in birdland
blinking lights
and laughter
at the park
parts of you
hidden here
and there
a trace
of an outline
with four legs
and a hairy stare
in the deep wells
of memory
for all gifts
eventually return
the source of grace
once secured
all things return
to their former shape
and space.
you are everywhere
the howl and the chatter
running around in
the hereafter
what kind of theater
are we waiting
in the wings for?
the heaviness
which pervades
when strange emotions
shape landscapes
we use to escape
and somewhere
a place I don't know
yet with furry angels
stars with sails
angels with tails
when life goes off the rails
it gets wings.
- for Mack
p.s. - I promise to take good care of your daddy until we can all go to the park together again.
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