Under two different trees
On opposite sides of the city
Connected by hearts
And by cell phones.
Under this tree I fled from
The scolding words of my mother
Telling me you were no good.
I fled not to the tree
But to the promise of your calming words
It was under the maroon leaved tree
Where I spent summer nights with crickets and fireflies by my side
And you in my ear.
How come I did not listen to my mother?
I soon noticed the leaves dying off
Crumbling and tumbling
Just like your interest in me.
I heard the whispered winds and your dwindling spirit
I felt the icy chill
And the bitter bite
On my skin
And in my heart.
It was under this tree
That you told me you did not love me.
That your affections had migrated south
Towards her warm and juicy fruit
That had been tempting towards being ripe for months.
She was a peach
But I am homemade jam.
You cannot survive the harsh freeze without me
But every time I look out at that tree
I am reminded that everything comes to an end
And if you can't survive the cold,
Then I'll just let it be.
Next time it burns
I'll tell it to the tree
To the bark
To the busy beetles under her skin.
She will stay
And listen, like you never did.
Quiet are the fields
from pennants past
set idly away
from the maple
(chilling on the boneyard)
telling tales of
and wheel house legends
the rally cap sluggers
with mahogany eyes
in floating mists
give a bite
to sublime skies
trip to the hole
their spit buckets
pure life form
bikers and loners
and curious coffee goers
mill about the horn
from an old
and Mendoza lines
from years gone by
and cracks at the bat
(from the big time Timmy Jim)
the 9th inning gunner
brush back balls
the game day citizen
and dugout warrior
who lit it all up
in Rockwell fame
our love is,
dreary morning eyes
& the sun peeking through
mouths that still reek of dreams,
& smiles that soothe
our love is foggy windows
& sweaty bodies
the scent of your skin
& the scent of mine
nights that slip away
& the star above that shines
our love is smooth words
& voices still tainted by sleep
faces painted with smiles
& kisses that make you weak
our love is the position only
our bodies know
the entire continent of us
a map connecting fate
& a vulnerability that feels safe
our love is watching 80s music videos in bed
entangled & innate
laughing just because
it is something to appreciate
our love is adventure-filled days
& treasured memories to keep
a feeling deep within
as our hearts take a leap
our love is a method of praise
your presence like heaven
lost in a blissful daze
i wonder, all of my life, where have you been?
as the gloomy afternoons come,
and your song is still on,
perhaps my thoughts are so far,
to where all the illusions are,
I still sing along those words,
because you've lodged a bullet,
of pensive woe near my spine
because your charming moves,
made my tongue twist once more.
Is it the smoking sorrow within your lungs,
Is it the ache that never left your tears,
because you're twisting a profound riddle,
and every quarter of me wants to know.
You knew I liked your eyes,
those minutes of ours never left my mind.
nor have your words, that made me dreadful,
knowing that I do fall now.
The woeful moans of autumn show that love did leave us long ago.
Two souls defined by the kind of conceit
held together by passion's sweet summer heat.
Blossomed between each beautiful bloom,
they did nothing but consume;
until all that was left of the love that they lost
was frozen under winter's weary frost.
Blanketed under snow so white,
ready to start things over; to make things right.
The woeful moans of autumn show
that love did leave us
drops of honeydew melon,
and soft summer kisses
powdered lemon pastries,
and late evening embraces
and gingerbread spices
and stories exchanged
and silent nights
cider that burns,
and the eyes of a stranger
did feelings fade,
are you letting go
tell me my love,
for only you know.
and some nights I feel like ice that cools in the mid winter or crisp fall leaves that have just fallen, life less and dead at the end of their journey once so beautiful and radiant a sight to see some thought of thee then life came and the colors changed the greens turned into hot reds then just as fast as it arrived the color left the leaves wrinkled and the wind came to collect its debt ripping its heart the leaf hit the ground slowly doing its last glide in the air as it hit the ground to no longer live again
I stand on the chipped wooden deck
now darkened from the rain.
The snow has begun to melt,
water dripping between the cracks.
The sun greets me from behind trees
still bare for the last stretch of winter.
I recall the same trees,
dressed in gowns of green.
Birds soaring between branches,
singing sweet songs of summertime.
I recall these same trees,
as the crisp autumn air
pulled at their red and orange leaves,
and sent them back to the earth.
I recall the same trees,
nude with branches swaying,
as the first snow flakes drifted from the heavens,
leaving a cool white blanket beneath them.
Oh, how q u i c k l y time moves,
passing with such haste.
Oh, how I hope I am changing.