When I woke, it was raining, and the stars were out. I could see clouds, lit by stars. Now, clouds blush pink, excited as octopi, at being seen in the playful exchange of inked night for day.
I feel like I’m playing golf this morning;
full swings shoot balls to the stars.
I want my touch,
to wing an exchange,
rain tinsels in me
light flashes on and off,
the stars gone,
the neck -