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Elations


I might appear decisive.
Ideas resting akimbo, black & white,
The passage to an emerald kingdom.

Can I give you a sure thing?
Some solid ground? 
No need - what if 

Enigma rings this moment,
Like sunlight rides a forest?
What if edges have already melded, 

Like plaid weds flannel threads?
We could court vibrations,
wind kinships into wavelengths.

We lift each other up.

I could rise from sandy sediments
Breast bare as a sycamore,
The one down our gravel drive.

She tugs water droplets
Out of the aquifer,
Rock bound for centuries;

Drags them up
Gives them a penthouse view,
Opens her lips, out they go

To float like lost tribes,
To congregate as cloud-bank.
She craves the rain.

We lift each other up.

I could sit like frog, eyes 
Poking above a rippled surface,
Meditating on digestion.

When in violet flash, a horny dagger
He never sees coming,
Drags him up and out –

Tosses him down its rose gullet
And he’s cooking beyond done
In the foul yellow juices.

He is digestion - coming apart, the 
Molecules of sleek frog re-mingle:
Shaggy gray feathers, stilted legs.

Now he breaks open the air,
One motion, look
It’s a frog with wings.

We lift each other up.

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