Is it so easy to push away

What you cannot see?

Pretend at least the hours--

Feeding, breathing, being

The powdered sugar on the ground

If you are cold, but you must say

You must be older

Melting has a way of assuming

The colors forgotten underneath

If I could give you just logic

I don't know what patterns

Of dreams you live off of?

If we narrow the fields we play to nothing

Maybe we'd see what was already there

Was waiting and accepting of the warm April air