Joy of life measured in sweet stark bursts
of mustard seed grass rising yellow
between rows of vines wetted green winter rain;
Joy of life the sweet music of harmony's
rusted notes of sour blues
from doorways of this and that street
New Orleans or new days;
Of wild unforseen frothed white waves
no surfer worth dancing on tips
of water drooplets could ignore;
Or the belly button madness
moon rays scooped and chisled
shadows along the right of way of tan thighs
Of rolled gold hills catering cows under cloudless
skys of ocean scented pines
or the crisp new sound rustling
beneath darkened redwood porch.
Joy of life and the ectasy of floating
between amber purple lines
of Mozart's reflective visions
interperted by Mohawks and Coyotes
By wayside of rusted cowboy bleachers
danger rides of Coney Islands' valued silliness
hot dogs and red wine.