Let me wear your jacket for the longest time
after I cut my bangs too short
and pin a flower in your pocket.

I tell you if I could do anything
I would grow the longest arms
to scratch the moon because the moon
is my favorite mosquito bite

And you just stand and chew stand and chew
and I suddenly wish I had a sleigh of geese
to nip my ankles pink and make
the ground smell of half bitten apples.

Wouldn’t it be wonderful to have a picnic in our geese’s shade.
As they huddle together like eggs in a carton,
lazy and watching
you tell me about the people we will grow into

Your breath
on my neck like a music
raising my arms into the air
like two skinny kites
searching for a gallop of wind.

—  Sarah Levine, “Sleigh of Geese”