I am happy today with sheets of life.
I washed out the bedsheets.
I hung out the bedsheets and watched them
slap and lift like gulls.
When they were dry I unfastened them
and buried my head in them.
All the oxygen of the world was in them.
All the feet of the babies of the world were in them.
All the crotches of the angels of the world were in them.
All the morning kisses of Philadelphia were in them.
All the hopscotch games on the sidewalks were in them.
All the ponies made of cloth were in them.
So this is happiness, that journeyman.