It appears to be confetti
fluorescent lilac petals
falling in the black arena
amphitheater aloft
with swings
on long sterling chains
silky stocking smooth
you can dance on a star
miles-long pendulums
catapult you ’round the horn
the belt-line
of the Milky Way
moons bigger than suns
but trees bigger still
right here in my backyard
her face just inches from mine
blocks the universe
whole
her lips
larger than life
appear where my heart
used to be
displaced
she pounds
like a pacemaker
sets the tempo
of my time
passes the baton
in the oval
of the race
for my being
such a kick in the stretch
the hurrah of the throng
is ticker-tape
along the ridge
in silhouette
a traveling man
with all his belongings
wrapped in a pillowcase
sings
unquiet
unwritten
unfinished
songs
whistles
effervescent
a tune she knows
she’s heard
long ago
in a dream
it seems
star-bound
earthward
and spellbound
© Chagall, 2013
Alphabet City 