Heaven, Here


It's our backyard
We're allowed
We allow ourselves
Such rights
As to keep a few toys strewn about
Such pleasures
Of the dancing of sun and shadows
Upon the nearly too-long grass
That feels so silky
So blessedly silky
Against our ankles and feet
And the breeze….

Ruffles

I plan to be taken
To a place
Where my skin
Shines bright
In the warmth
Of The sun.

To a land
Where The language
Whispers,
“Come up too high.”
“Wear this flower.”
“Live this life.”
“Come undone,”