A turn around the sun
On our earth-school bus,
And now we are an us.
The friction of the fields
Of space and time yields
Never more than love wields.
Those moments when we float,
The warmth of a peacoat,
Or ice cream antidote,
The puppy's kiss, or Air,
Luxuriant heads of hair,
The fit, you know, down there--
The finding of a phone
Or the taking-home stone--
These boons help us condone
Those moments when we don't
Or can't or simply won't
Float.
Our bedwarm heat soars high.
The sun must sure belie us.
We are truly sky, us.
No limits, you and I.
©Reginald Rueffer 2010
