A Short Walk on the Shimokia Peninsula
If you're reading this,
please note I've added a sunset filled
with pink and orange popcorn clouds
in a swimming pool sky stringy
cotrails of passing planes, a breeze
to whisper in your ears
Let me throw in a willow tree
as it tastes the water of a small trout brook,
the steady patter making you weary
too early in the day.
Since we've come this far,
why don't we add a sonnet by Shakespeare,
one he's asked us to revise for him
given our flair for poetry.
Now imagine: none of this exists,
no sky filled with clouds, no trees sipping
from a creek, and Shakespeare
doesn't need our help
to write one of a thousand sonnets.
What there is, dear reader,
is a sliver of a moon smiling down
through the last turquoise of this day
while we march our wooded trail,
my arm round your shoulder
watching the earth move and kissing it -
like a kite kisses the sky -
on both of its beautiful, blue cheeks.