Allow who you wish to be
to dance
with who are.

Let fantasy
and reality
coincide
in a way
that dazzles anyone
and everyone
who attempts
to find
the crease.

Let the choreographer
in you
fall in love
with her audience,

Let the elm tree
—fearful, unmoving
be windswept
at last,

Let the child in you
greet the daybreak
with a kiss
so crowded with longing
it could shatter even
the fugitive shame
of a yet
dreamless
sleep.


A poem for a friend
on his birthday.