Passing Grade

When in the mind, body, and soul,

We meant the soul as the heart,

Pumping our life force into some energetic craze,

Where the night birds hunt for us,

But we are singing so loud they won't attack because,

They know everybody will see,

So we make them the hunted,

And they fly farther into night,

Like magnets holding up our eleven o'clock pictures

On our parents refrigerators, we stick together and

Move like a million underwater gems,

Pearls shining the uncommonest common,

Rituals of standing room only, gloating with

Innocence even emersed in murky pond water,

Holding leaches and long clawed biting beatles,

Because their bark is worse than their bite,

And their bark is muffled out underwater,

Like Charlie Brown's parents, and their sight blurred

Like Mr. Magoo's, and their stories embellished like Colonel McBragg's,

We feel mind, body, and soul in the recess of our absence,

As togetherness