All Lights Are Fireworks Since We Made Permanent July. Whether Sunshine Or Warm Showers My Rain, My Sky,

We are floating Through the seas Of the sky.

The gentle wind Grazes our skin And we sway, Oh, we sway.

We are flying Effortlessly Through the airwaves.

And the sun Is so bright It warms our souls And we smile, Oh, your smile.

We are radiating, Reflecting all the light That’s filling in our hearts.

The touch of your hand As we flow Leaves me breathless For a while.

We are floating, We are, Oh, we are.

And there are So many colors To your wings.

I am just the winter air Freezing a downy bed I'm a thousand snowflake pairs Crushed beneath a sled

Sometimes I'm a bitter chill That nips atop a balding hill I am more than winter air I'm dark days ahead

I can write about love I can write about birds and cats And the movement of water

I can write about solitude About the comfort of silence And have it all mean the same thing

I was a sculpture made of ice When you put your arms around me And though I lived in a world of winter Your touch was warm and I felt it

Even though I tried to resist Because I was so afraid of you Your body was a home I'd left And the frozen ceiling cracked open

Suddenly you were a torrent of sun Searching for my heart so cold beneath And because I was hardened I couldn't move So you kept me safe as I melted

Into you I became flesh and bone Bits of slush falling off my skin Finally I could move my arms again Around your body I was defrosting

But as the cold body comes inside To the fire inside the hot house The burning becomes too much too soon And it hurt you to touch me that way

My sun went back up to the sky To look at me adoringly from afar Still I am here on the ground in a puddle Naked and alone and shivering

Summer, I would have an affair with you I'd run away with you Drive down to the harbor Grab your hand Start running And get on whichever ferry Came next

I think I see What others see in you, Summer, Your carefree breeze Mixed with your quick Hot temper Is admittedly alluring

Summer, You would tempt me by the beach Would we even make it Back to the motel? You're hot and steamy Like the air Before the thunder cracks And I might need you Suddenly

I'll kiss you On a private boat dock Out where the herons nest Where the cattails grow Where ducklings learn to swim Closer to the bay Where no one knows us

Did you know that you are of me, Summer? As the grass is of earth As limbs are of bodies But also As phases are of the moon And waves are of the sea

Summer, I would run away with you But just for a little while Please don't call my name Or breathe love in my ear We can take your car With the windows rolled down But we wouldn't last long Beyond the heat

Drown the keys In words I could never find, Scream a crescendo Full force from my fingers.

Pour myself Into the body of the piano Cry the highest notes Hanging long on the pedals.

My right hand Paints my voice, The left anchors My soul.

Poetry is just as visual As any other form of art.

The punctuation, the spacing, The length and width In the breaking of lines,

Thoughtful Arrangement Of words

Matters.

It matters as I am painting with letters.

It's part of the picture, The texture of poetry Is flowing, flowing.

Do you see? I ask,

D o  y o u  s e e  m e a n i n g?

I would tilt the earth For snow drops and witch hazel For rare hints of color Bright against a white landscape

I would give up leaves For bare frosted branches I would banish the sun To see night in the afternoon

I would never swim again To skate across a frozen pond I would tear out July and August To have a calendar of Decembers

Give me a window that speaks That howls the names of blizzards I would tilt the earth To see cardinals shine in snow

I love writing About Her And Him Whoever They are

I am laying in the tall grass On a cloudy afternoon The air is still, The grass does not blow In the wind or on a breeze

It is quiet, the birds are quiet There is an ant crawling On my arm, there is a Cottontail munching on Nearby dandelions

The gray clouds are peaceful They don't promise rain Now there is also a Small beetle on my shirt They are claiming me, these bugs

They are accepting me into their World of the tall grass Where the rabbits and moles live Where life is slower I will go inside later