Under the rainbow arc,
your ache subsides.
God washes the sky,
your hand unclenches.

Drenched in fire,
a mind in turmoil
maneuvers to safety
on a gold gunwale.

We gorge on watermelon
and rhubarb-apple pie.
We feel heat, and bathe
in a brine of ecstatic love.

We find an Isle,
a respite from wars.
Kids come and go
as they’re supposed to.

In wind and worry,
we survive on sprouts,
mussels, potatoes,
lobsters and borscht.

We glide noiselessly
into a labyrinth of time,
cloaked in a membrane,
an eternal bond.