Where zebra dance
Pale moondrops break the great divide.

Decadent shrubbery gives way
To the rhythmic pattern of hooves
And the ground is alive and fluid.

The air is thick with childhoods odor,
Maturity’s complexion held at bay
As thoughts pure and simple
Make fantastic again
What had become unremarkable.

In a hidden bit of forest
Only zebra could know
Pale mushrooms grow as artifacts
Of the seeds that we have sewn

Reminiscent paths of the things that might have been
With lacy tendrils weave intricate loops through the air
As striped bodies leap in holy communion
Writhing in glory to the nights ephemeral song.