Swing Low

Swing low
sweet melancholy morning,
blue, but saturated with
the smell of
a far away fire and
draped in
clouds, subtle and
comforting-it is so
easy to hug
mornings like these:
typewriter here, ocean
here, jazz
everywhere-books too.
Who's to say
this is not a
miraculous day? It is,
for if a bird
will surf
a sea wave, and a dolphin
will leap for
the air's
current, one must
certainly smile,
walk about the pad
and sand and sea-
free, also
pleased.