remember when we were crazy,
when fireflies flew frenzied flight
in fields at night, so far away and long ago,
once the pleasure of foolish folly, 
tumbles down green incline
to rest rapt in your arms
face-down to the ground,
inhaling the earth,
spying small life we found there,
the tickle of a blade of grass that grew there,
kisses stolen propped on elbows, bodies contoured
to the lay of the land, our cordoned off slice of life

all the world was a dome above
the firmaments below our vantage

on a branch overlooking tranquility,
will we ever coo again?

cc: Chagall 2021