the cool currents of a turquoise finger painting melts the sun down
on us, as we
dogs from the backyard
for a first time
roll under the barbed wire the cactus in the garden
feet bared to the hillside of felt
like hands to glistening hair
we escape
steep hills to climb
the tree next door
stairs to an attic
heads bent to see wildflowers color these feet
at the top
hidden by branches
lost in old photos we turn slowly, underwater
in a tidepool
a lake rose
over the mountain, to sail, through the valley
with the sky
blending like trout to stream or hawk to cliffs
people pass below
like birds at dance on a shore
while leaves dream