grey mud made blue
for our play, and our faces
we've trudged in it many a color
marched over it, dried in the yard
Many a sunflower-day sight spent on weeds
though her heart is encased in my soil,
she could tread no lighter
that I be overjoyed,
with the footprint of her favor
it is forever a favorite stamp on my
chest, a faucet that runs over my arms,
soaking our garden, play with me
again?