Hopping the Cracks for the band Snow Patrol
My life is suddenly great
and I am magically happy.
I can run a mile,
lose my breathe
and still smile.
I realize suddenly
that no one is watching me
or I stopped caring
who might
have glanced my way
in passing.
Just as suddenly
I am "chasing cars"
slightly faster than me
to infinity.
I'm hopping over
the cracks
of a downhill sidewalk,
and occasional liter.
The birds are just singing
for me.
For a slant of time
there is meaning
and equality.
The sun is settling over
white-blossoming pear trees
this evening.
I just hope a spoonful
of hope sprinkles down from
heaven tonight.
Tomorrow might be better
than today.
Maybe, when least expected,
it will be even better everyday.
Title this poem: Hopping
the Cracks for the band
Snow Patrol,
or Hopping the Cracks
like I'm Five Again.
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