As April slides to May, each spring day splices cleanly to another, the evenings clear and trees dressed with candles appear as shaggy lustrous peaceniks.
Going to bed airily, our selves ride a percolating train, hop over watchful tropical Belishas, till, serious as telescopes, they tilt upwards into therapeutic planetary night.
We wake to taste the newness that comes between us; stand on our heads to hear birds singing along like children. Is this the first day to take on trust? Give us more of these skies alive with Venus!
First published in the TLS