by Stephen Mead
is the biggest picnic blanket ever & the tar-darkest.
Even these green grasses planted as mats in boxes
to combat ozone erosion cannot know of their own color.
What shines from such shades is your skin & mine
though streetlights don't reach us, just muzzy heavenly blurs
above the city's haze.
Which is the one to first set sights on & make a wish?
We forget the rhyme, bright with our own light
in the time limbs make sigh-braided & rustling.
Your high-dive plunge finds an opening with finesse
our cries sing of all the way home.
Those boats beyond the parapets resemble our stretching,
river-reflected as crane lanterns for peace.
Vaults above turns the world's axis
by veils Luna rides like a mistress.
Yes, what homage it is to be one combined by two
making love for sheer joy.
About Stephen Mead:
Stephen Mead is an Outsider multi-media artist and writer. Since the 1990s he’s been grateful to many editors for publishing his work in print zines and eventually online. Recently his work has appeared in Honest Ulsterman, and Visible Magazine. Currently he is resident artist/curator for The Chroma Museum, artistic renderings of LGBTQI historical figures, organizations and allies predominantly before Stonewall, The Chroma Museum - The Chroma Museum (weebly.com)