There’s a moment when we clasp
hands and flap our arms faster
until a membrane stretches
between and lifts us into
the sky. We’re children again.
We’re surrounded by laughter
on playgrounds where we never
grew up instead of old fools
indulging in a moment
of play while saying good night.
We are some new human race
whose touch conjures wings, whose kiss
twists our kaleidoscope
reverie into focus.