Light in my head, you in my arms—Fisherman’s Blues, and Deb

It turns out, that if you
drilled a hole in the top of
my head, took me in your arms,
and turned me horizontal, you
could use me for a flashlight.

And if you were to drill many holes
in my head, and spin me around,
you could use me as a mirror ball,
with this one difference: that
I have my own source of light.

And then, if you took me into the forest
at night, down a dark trail,
it would be like we were
suddenly surrounded by a host of
fireflies, zag-zigging over the broad
fronds as we waltzed.

For as it turns out, I have found,
that when I hold you in my arms
my head is full of light.


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