I am a fraction of my own imagination
Fighter jets ran out of fuel
It was warm, the sky blue as the sea, and the plants were open to us all.
We ran across the park, hid behind trees; one had bark so smooth I hugged it and knew what love meant.
We were so many, we had a picnic in a big round circle and passed the paper plates of food we spent the whole morning preparing, and I knew then what making food with love was all about.
We made eye contact, touched sticky hands (from the honey) and laughed merrily; we were loud, and forceful with each expression, because we meant it – every bellowing noise and exclamation came from the heart.
The colours of spring, the breeze of summer, the hugs of winter.
It was such a perfect day.