A for Blog

You rambled for violets
random and sharp.
You tucked them into
your playmate’s hands.

We believe every day
before breakfast
we will not die
not yet, not now.

I know why
we perform
this impossible thing
but not how.

Sky is infinity
airbrushed in lilac.

Tide is logic
surging upstream.

Toes are security
toasty in waders.

Whitebait are slicks
of swivelling glass.