time is stretching into a

dark circle, we are

growing away from each other.

the dogs sniff at midnight

when they hear the cry

our water is lining our

stomachs with a soft grey


I have often thought of

other worlds – they can’t all be

like this one – different atmospheres

must breed different social

structures. I am tired of

climbing up and down this one

like a jungle gym.

our boat is going over the

little dam, it rushes and

hits with an exciting twist,

water splashes all over us,

people on the beach laugh

and we laugh too.

neat pumpkins, silver cole slaw,

autumn picnic, smoky air and

dark circled sky.

we are trying to catch up

to the wild women whose

hair whips behind them,

whose golden shoes have

pointed toes and long yellow ribbons.

we want to go with them;

we want to be free and sing

secret songs and make

pictures in the sand for the

tide to wash away.

by Cher Bibler