Warm Zebras Through Curve Glass
Child screams in time
On a plane
To Bill Withers
Beatleing
Let It Be
All clapping
Tiny fists raise
Air hand shaking
Tambourine back seat
Ahh whack hardwood tiny gong
Slippery lights
Hypotenuse the windows
Inside like warm zebras on the ceiling
Burnt umbers of paprika smiles
It’s all evening
That man humaning
Wings saunter lazy
Lazar guidance
Closer to heaven or space,
Rest well little one.
