Saturday, December 15, 2012

that rainy day

Remember that rainy day we had a picnic under a big oak tree and you asked me, "Does this tablecloth sound green to you?" and my head unzipped right then and all of the birds flew away and the mushrooms turned upside down and caught the rain and we drank mushroom flavored rain out of mushroom caps and I said, "Yes, I do believe it does, but how can we be sure of anything" and you tossed back the rest of your tea and took a bite of the cap and chewed it up and said, "mmm this tastes like blowing up balloons for her birthday party" and you laughed until you cried so I picked a white dandelion and touched the tip to your nose and asked, "and how does this feel?" and you smiled and said, "it feels like Chopin's preludes have been tucking in the nocturnes" and then I blew the dandelion seeds across your shoulder and we watched as the wind carried them and lowered them to rest on the tips of the wet grass and the sun rode a horse out from behind a cloud and lit up your face and you rolled back down to the tablecloth and looked up to the ocean and said, "everything smells like an orange car in a funeral procession" and then we paused to breathe in the temperature and you hummed us to sleep with the sweetest breeze.

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