The Secret
Jeffrey McDaniel
When you were sleeping on the sofa,
I put my ear to your ear and listened
to the echo of your dreams.
That is the ocean I want to dive in, merge
with the bright fish, plankton and pirate ships.
I walk up to people on the street
that kind of look like you and ask them
the questions I would ask you.
Can we sit on a rooftop and watch stars
dissolve into smoke rising from a chimney?
Can I swing like Tarzan
in the jungle of your breathing?
I don’t wish I was in your arms.
I just wish I was pedaling a bicycle
toward your arms.
This probably subconsciously influenced the writing of one of my own poems, “Purple Starburst”, in retrospect.