it is difficult to write in a hammock
not to find the words
the words are children hiding
desperate to be sought

fickle wind jostles
ecstatic chimes
traffic sounds like the ocean
if you listen

and that smell
fresh rain,
grass
a barbecue ignited

this hammock holds my heart
it is my lotus
supporting me so that I may be
in the world, yet not of it

floating higher and higher—
glimpse her now before she is
but a speck in the sky

swaying, yet somehow perfectly still
tress rustle
leaves spackling the air, don't miss a spot
fill in the cracks

a raindrop kisses my lip
Welcome Home I've Missed You
if it weren't for the chill in my back
I'd stay here forever

no one wants the hammock
on this dreary afternoon—
lavender ice clouds
carved out with silver streaks, axel lift

you see, hammocks are not just
for sunny days
in fact, you won't learn a **** thing
from a hammock
on a sunny day

their secrets aren't safe
in the sun