Oh why, human heart
do you sleep on the floor?
Oh why, human heart
do you sleep on the floor?
Because something in being
cries out to make sense
Wondering why
wet sand sticks
but wet rocks don’t, I
thought I’d ply my
scientist father-in-law.
He’ll know, I thought.
But then, No,
I thought,
I won’t.
For gain of the knowledge of that
will mean loss of my pleasure in this.
Give me the taffy of sunlit unknowns!
A six-foot cloud has stolen my sun.
Such a cloud shouldn’t last too long,
but miraculously does, being
a string of clouds
lined up with the wind.
Who’d stretch a cloud a mile
to wreck up all my sky?