Sometimes my heart holds a
bubble wand and blows sternly,

pushing pops of cheer: wispy
lavender spheres, reflecting a
burgeoning sky, floating up, defy,

defy.  Carried by the winds of
sighs, encouraged by the whistling
of leaves on whooping branches,

and the shrill song of grass
over a coliseum mounting in dew;

gladness freckling in the sun
and racing to have run.