But why not bask

May 11, 2014
in this morning i rise,
euphoric in stature.
beaming back at the sun,
we play catch with the rays.
i am a decade-old pack
of half-eaten sunflower seeds,
dug up, crunchy, foreign.
as i look to the rustle
of bustling dirt shrouds,
an internal emission
occurs with intensity.
a switch has gone
off with dense vibes
of a heavy happy.
in spring, i think
i’m overcome
with pleasure and sorrow.
i know i’ll come down
but why not bask?
i’m happy, i think;
for at least a little while

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