sixty-two

sixty-two years
is a mountain of days
rooted firmly
in my imagination

picture an image
of a mountain floating
in a an image of a sea
of infinities––

a reality
that is not
real
is the only
reality

i welcome the sun
from this dreaming mountaintop
& bow to the light
putting a ring
on Cora’s finger

hair graying,
insides turning to
ash––
we couldn’t be any
happier

foreground & background
comfortably arise
with the sun