California Spring

i found this poem tucked neatly between the pages of a book i recently rediscovered. the weather in california is spectacularly sunny. and having lived here almost a year, i wanted to pay homage to brooklyn new york. i do so with this poem:

a prospect park

the evening sky speaks softly though the watery early evening,
softly breaking into dreams with conversations about quivering twilight built for two, conversations that repeat about the high flying kite society calmly floating within the clouds,
blue white kisses with clouds and i remember how it felt as i lay next to you on our blanket,
and i remember when you said good morning,
good morning my love,
awake and run down your dreams with liquid memories of the night before,
let a liquid word repeat,
let them demand timed breaths,
a few phrases that enable pauses after stories and stories that believe in beauty.