I once thought love was
a positive stimulus
of an independent variable.
Smoke rings swirled
in the air
as I lay on my back
feeling the earth spin.
Now I think of cave men
who were lucky
to avoid saber tooth tigers
and realize love
is a simple concept,
but for the lucky.
It is two doves
who fly together
because one was not shot,
or ate by an Eagle.
Love is a rainbow
that beams
to the ground
on both ends
because smog
distorts light rays
just right.
I still lay on the ground
but am too old
to blow smoke rings
from my wretched lungs.
But love sweet love
is a song I sing
even by myself.
Honorable mention
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