I can survive, reaching arms high, finding sunrise sky.

Jumping ...

I cartwheel three times, waving pompoms when I don't even score.

On boring Tuesdays I wear tattered overalls, a smile and hello.

Thursdays are for plucking dandelions in parking lots and baking Mama's chocolate cake.

As early July fireworks boom above my humid sleeping bag, clumsily I will trace our hands in thick line.

I will hold you this way, we together in crayon.

I can open my heart and feel your love,

pet my precocious cat and walk my bouncing dog.

Don't bother me at two in the afternoon ...

I am dancing wild steps!

On Wednesday mornings I realize I may be lost and drowse in dampening caves. Circling everywhere

but home, I only find that sometimes I do need help.

Laughing, you smell like raspberry muffins, and suddenly alone disappears into your hugs.