down there below us all, open fields of just light and smiles, where I can fly now for

all the miles and miles and miles, a bouncing balloon follows me, confounds my thoughts and swallows me, in its own pink hotness of happy lost and thoughtless, I wonder now where those days of sickness and nights of thickness have been buried, where that smile was lost hidden and my own identity tarried and wept not knowing where my soul was kept down under and hid and unnoticed unbid, I had somehow forgotten these songs of freedom he sometimes sings and how to unfold these tortured and gelded wings to again shout out a thought unspoken by poet unbroken and now I remember yesterday 1-3-2012 Terry RW Whisenant