All A-Jangling

Let’s run through the sprinklers with
yellow sunshine bathing us
And thus acquaint our kinderselves
with our aged selves

We’ll hold the tethers
to our splashes of color
Aerodynamic wings of happy-paper
while breezes of fair promise

Remind us of the warmth of womb
the caress that promises a warren
of spirits slithering as friends do
all happy-facing while smug inside

The vault of youthful obstinacy.
Whence comest thou, My Love?
From the market of meat.
I purchased you there, and here we are.