I was daylight
in the middle of your night…
it starts like a trickle
of syrup, spreading…
I look for the sun through the branches of pine…
Yes, I get excited when I hear
Vivaldi’s Four Seasons
I know it, I recognize it…
I hear the wind
as music…
A Liberation Day will come
after we are blended by starlight,
another girl dreaming …
life comes swinging,
sometimes you stand…
Your hand carries the heat
and softness of the sun…
turbulence
I rise
seatbelt suspends me…
He leaves her there, in that field, and he goes home…
Daily Poets 