Like waves upon the new mown grass
and leaves upon the shore.
Like music floating through the glass
and always nevermore.
Like birds a flyin' underfoot
and pressed against my brow.
Like going out the stairwell in
and maybe anyhow.
Like looking through the furnace lid
and mist that looks like fog.
Like whispering a yellow mood
and the panting of a hog.
Like swimming up the forest path
and taking leave of time.
Like cannons on the tree of life
and nature causing crime.
Like stuffing in the chicken broth
and wearing shoes and sauce.
Like never always almost late
and thinking found when lost.
Like lovers on the brink of fear
and fingers in the stew.
Like poems stinging horses ears
and all because of you.
Like taking count of empty space
and lists from A to Z.
Like a friend who's always there,
are you all this to me?
- David L. Papp