This Poem by Scott Stevenson

black and white stripes
this is nothing to bother your night sky
deep in those sugar blue eyes
around in a field while you're never alone
this key is opening something

hearts are unsure because of their work
my limbs can feel it- this
is coming up to meet us
this dances down every street
maybe you're made of paper sheets

God, and wings pinned to prayers
help this, if your trumpet stings me
whistle me to sleep, and i'll crack a window
this can't be trapped up, the lions close their dreams
when it swirls around them in peace

like towers standing still, a ghost ponders this
the group of birds senses it
sharp like a jagged edge of this year
you are getting braver every time
fresh air and the river of wine

little pictures shoot across
I am lifting my hands and taking this
you return yourself so much and for so many reasons
I melt in moonlight when you say you're sure that
this is happening to us