I’ve planned to travel
your heart-line
for some time
now.
There’s a place,
it’s a bend
where the sunlight hits
just right.
Atop a log fence
I sit
with a cattail
in my teeth;
I squint so I see
you outlined
in the sun.
And it smells like
honey and
grass
and lemons;
you taste
just the same.
It’s warm,
the light
grows stronger,
days are long,
life fans out
in broad strokes,
that take us far
beyond
what we’d hope for.
I grab your hand,
pull you in,
we exit
the shaded maze.
© Chagall 2013
Alphabet City 