5-17-22
A Somebody’s a planet away, through cosmic space dust and vacuum, but what a world it could be, and also is.
A Somebody’s a trail that loops on itself, and going round, one finds the beginning again, but kind of wants to go back for all the sing-songy birds, and rustling tree leaves, and silver rivers in the early sun that were missed the first time through.
A Somebody’s a bright ball of light, like shiny and gold, but hidden under the weight of small talk and previous obligations.
A Somebody’s a song on the radio that plays at just the right time, if the weather’s right and the solar flares and frequencies don’t interfere, and the listener doesn’t change the station too soon.
A Somebody’s a new country, existing to be known, with culture and museums and overpasses soaring by concrete drainage ditches and a government that was voted on by the people, for the people, and this country also exists to offer a new way to know oneself if a passport or visa is handy.
A Somebody’s a you and
A Somebody’s a me and
Together the earth could be a bobber on the pond before us
And us the fishers on shore,
Waiting to get in
The
Boat.
The Lark Ascends 