as fragile
as a songbird -

her hands

knotted and spotted
from many winters


november came one last time -
i held her hands in mine - gently

- gently, she flew away
to where songbirds go
when it's cold in the mountains.

r ~ 11/18/14

the boy with scars and pain rubbed in his palms
the boy who fought for years and years and struggled inside
the boy who was offbeat and out of touch with his classmates
the boy who just wasn't strong enough to make it
he was there for months and i never noticed
my teacher said his name and i was zoned out and heard nothing
he got up and left the classroom and i saw nothing
he sat two seats away and i never realized
until it was too late.
maybe there were no words i could have said to fix him
maybe there was nothing i could do to change the outcome
but now i sit and that seat two to the left is empty
and i can't help but feel responsible
for my ignorance, my blank face that looked past him
could have been just another knife in his chest
i can picture him walking and seeing me and me not seeing him
and how he must have felt invisible
and i know how i feel that way sometimes
i never wanted to worsen anyone's conditions
but now it is too late.

I'd ask thy forgiveness,
but I know thy disbelief of blame.

Though thy terrors be great,
thy bounty is much the same.

Thy systems be wiser
than many can fathom,
and for their presence,
I thank thee.

We have loved you,
respected you,
revered you;
but, then
we also
***** you,
plundered you
and forsook you.

Though we inherit thy Eden,
we voracious inhabitants
squander and profligate thy lush resources
in the name of mere money-
in the name of ourselves;
yet, I dare to reckon
better is deserved by thee,
o Mother Earth.

I hope we can eventually become thy apt sentinels.
I have been honored to be in thy presence.
Thank you for thy selflessness.

I am ashamed on behalf of my kind,
but I know you understand that we're still young.
We'll come around one of these days,
or, if not, I know we'll inherit thy wrath, as well.

If such be the case:
so be it.
I wish it won't come to that,
but, if it does,
at least some of us will surely understand.

Winter burns bright with the fumes of summer, but it’s still just as cold as the hearts that left me in the solemn, snow-filled days of yesteryear.