Hiding in joyful exclamations
on a kind of rocking chair,
the words dance in their outer shell.
This is an ability that I lack,
being naturally shy yet seeking
the bright projection of fun
as the coloratura
of a drunken starry night
weaves its presence
into the little corners
that have evaded up to now
the pull of some personal hell.
It's like a pat on the back
among teenaged friends
weary of the waking sun.