to live. I've the sun in
the mornin, the soft blades
of grass sprinkled wet
with dew. The jay's on the wire

in their blue and white attire
and the chipmunks playing peek-
a-boo. The clouds roll in like candlepins
down on a strike.  But they're just

a tyke that needs to be sent
to his room. No more drama, I can
walk around in my pajamas till
noon. Dance in the light of the full

moon. Not wearing a thing
‘cept rosehip perfume. Just the three of us
flying high in the marmalade sky -
me, myself, and I.