we are just around the corner,
turning on the edge of the finale,
the door at the dead end says “OPEN”
since this is weather for flicking your sunglasses down on your nose
and letting the leaves blow out of hand
(they’ve been frozen all winter, let them play)
everyone is mesmerized, lying flat, stroking the grass with flat palms
wriggling fingers fearlessly into the cool soil. at last we have colour.
cut off your spare cloth, let your skin out
so the rays can heal us all of our journey inside
take a magical hit off the sunlight pipe,
it will change your world.