skinny

Can you call? I was mighty
Moonbeaming my antebellum picture shelf
Brighter than light. My participation flighty
My pencil skinny and sharp. I shelve
The season - the kissable lilac - behind


Believing. And what is better?
A cloudless straight-shot to a flowerpot;
A rainbowed riverstone could not be wetter.
I am hunching, listening to the landscaped plot
Envious of the loved-enough and the left-behind


Flakes of aquamarine whatchamacallits pop
In and out around the umbrellad vista-scene
Like unshackled joy firecracking, oh!, from atop
A jovial passage from an extended kindergarten dream
Gold and jade katydid keepsake left behind


I am not your hailstorm emporium
Meandering epidemic muzzling of television sets
Flooding your hopes with paraplegic comforts
I've unlocked sadness and death and still
Have restless feet. Every wasted joy relaxes.