as i stand

upon my stoop

the porch light washing out all the colors

i look up

at the speckled night sky

and see lights dash by

their tails bright and quick

as i stand

upon my stoop

under the pink blossom tree

the indigo sky swirling

like van gogh back from the dead

the wind whispers through the rosemary

and i shiver

as i stand

upon my stoop

my heart leaps as i see it

that gentle horizon

    and how easy it would be

            to hop the fence

                     and run away.