We slide into laughter,
an intimate cove,
a secret cave,
a place between the sky
and the deep
(the wet of tears at the edges
making the rocks gleam)

Laughter like bubbling water,
thirst quenching and cool,
a little ledge we can hide on,
safe from the churn of fears and tragedy,
safe from the shafts of analysis
and resolutions.
We bring up the things
that made us laugh before,
just to keep us here
a little longer.

©Wendy Mulhern
November 24, 2015