painting in the corner

chilled pavement, fresh from fallen rain
we backwind through the storm
to lay on grass, on the other side of happiness

watch stars float over our outstretched bodies, through the cascade of fireworks
as laughter intermingles in air, catches fire, illuminates

tottering popcorn bags lay on patchwork blankets stretched beneath lawn chairs
the glow of eleven smiling faces enchanted by light without shadow

in poster-plastered rooms notes etch into discs of music, burnt but we sing off-key
as if deaf to our own beginnings to the world where tone, pitch, matters for melody

amidst piles of winter crystals we chuck hard-packed snowballs from cement balconies and glacial hills then chase, run and jump through fields, yielding freedom and wave 
t-shirt flags to sweep the air and collect our youth
letting it tumble across trampoline springs of summer fabric and lawn breezes

raking leaves to distract from sharp notes flung left of centre
and amidst the falling autumnal grasps at the edge of the deserted playground
dance to the music no longer in our heads, but around us,
sung on nights watching movies in paper-straw forts and bonfire energy

backwinding through the storm
we dance on chilled pavement barefoot, 
as snow crystals on rose buds rising from sun-drenched beaches cling to red gold leaves.