should this be time
of relentless celebration
flailing and chanting
cockeyed moon jabbers
with one foot stuck in muck

warmer winds render kites
tools to a dimension
between moist hindrances to clear vision

do you know the way west
in the dark
in the rain
with eyes shut
I don’t believe you

tailored temptations right buoys
floating in a slipstream
between paths of least resistance

maneuvering through
with you
prickly thickets gore
but all I feel
is your hand that has grabbed mine

wafting aroma of decay
settles in like fog
but all I sense
is your warm musk enveloping me

running along brambly hedgerows
closer to town
dimly aware of people nearby
but all I hear
is your laughter
rich and filling