o yes i love it

o yes i love it
when the swallows fly
across the fields and
nearly touch the ground

o yes i love it
when the sky is so low
that i can smell the angels,
they come through the clouds

i want to tickle them,
pull their hair and eat them,
they are all honey and herbs.
and i love it, o yes

when the rain falls
in seamless streams of wine
and when flashes in heaven
caramelize my bitterness

followed by thunder
to sígnal the sweet scent
of grass in the spring
o yes i love it

but now
i am sleepy and quiet
I can wait for the
next storm

to clean this air
o yes.
breathing.
yes.