In town on an indigo summer night
walking to the movies with my wife
by century trees flanking uplit green doors
on sidewalks safe and clean
vertical gold neon under a sliver of moon
chasing saturn through dear heaven,
I have enough time to breathe full the
oak, dust and grass air and all the sharp outlines
of a clear night.
Whales float peacefully somewhere
out of reach of harpoons
without wondering if they should love their lives,
their big-eyed spotted calves,
their sweet swirl of krill
or the sea chasing their powerful tails.
Of course there will be lean times,
oil spills, whalers and old age.
For me, blizzards, lightning and layoffs.
But right now, here in this fine flood
this breath
will not drown me.
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