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Yeah, you know it: You step out the door
on a warm summer evening,
and you notice that the very air is alive
with flittering, flying insects of all sorts,
backlit by the setting sun
and dancing aimlessly around
like so many unmelting snowflakes
refusing to fall to the ground.
It's a wonder how one can safely breathe in such a soup.
I imagine the air is a vast blue sea,
and at any moment a huge blue whale 
might sweep silently past the garage door,
mouth agape,
vacuuming in tons of these krill
as it glides on to who knows where.
And I stand there, amazed...
in my scuba gear.
Copyright 2003