Fingertips (The First Thursday)

Another new room - and how we marked it:
Each of us hunting this spot and that spot,
Alternating calm cool, then sizzling hot;
Gently burning on my blazing carpet;
Adventuring where the others couldn't,
Grinning from everywhere, inside and out;
Quivering gasps where we ought to shout,
Or howl, or roar, or snarl, tigers rampant
Across the soft mountains of a new day;
Fresh hopes flying from a promising sea,
Proud-chested, singing of discovery;
(Though curious sighs dampening our hay
Before dreams caught light or shrivelled away.)
A room full of fingertips. Growing glee.

2000-07-29