Mr. Cloud decided to wring
his scarf from the rain
accidentally serving mini cocktails
to the senior yellow blades of grass.

The trees undressed themselves
leaving just a leaf here and there
which the evergreens
felt was scandalous and obscene.

The buildings pressed themselves
to the gray sky and posed
like vain teenagers do
showing off their Christmas lights.

And Time bought a new organizer
which he calmly filled in
with a muddy, sharpened stick,
sitting with his legs crossed on a wet bench.

Don't give me the sad eyed look, will you?
I know we weren't built to last.
We didn't meet to be together forever
and ever.
But let's not ruin it too fast.

It's all a game of pretend,
until we become it.
You keep my hand safely in yours.
You warm my fingers in your winter jacket
and your scarf guards my neck from the cold.

It's all a matter of manner,
we learn.
I wrapped the chessboard in paper
as if I'd ever done that before.
And the corners of my smile tremble
for next year I won't go to the gift store.

Snowflakes melt
when sunny days come.
And so will eventually you and I.
Doesn't change how pretty we'd been
so hold me and kiss me,
open your gift,
and don't make us cry.

Her hands have been handed to
lizard scaled skin suspicious still
of stinging scorching snow,
a frostbitten freezing fire
fiercely fighting for a frightful form.

Dizzying, dazzled, a desperate desire,
the thirst to touch the torrid timber,
climbing and craning cracked by the chill,
hoarfrost has hanged her hand high,
soft surfaced smooth skin still.

I woke up in the pocket
of my dark blue duffle coat.
The one which smells of cinnamon,
with the shiny metal knobs.

I woke up in the pocket
of my dark blue duffle coat.
I was the size of Thumbelina,
barely grander than a toad.

I woke up in the pocket
of my dark blue duffle coat
in a pitch black woolen warmth.
(All my raincoats should take note.)

I woke up in the pocket
of my dark blue duffle coat
where I fiddled with the coins
and the keys and washed out bank notes.

I woke up in the pocket
of my dark blue duffle coat
and the day was such a thrill
with its fluky lazy stroll.

I woke up in the pocket
of my dark blue duffle coat
where I felt small again.
Immaturity - my poison's antidote.