the morning sun does not rise
back between the marshes on the bay
where colors remain dividing lines of gravity
where the horizon never seems at hand

on land, at a distance,
i can clearly see your vision
features all your own
the blue of your eyes, the curve of your brow

but it's july and we are at a distance.
nothing unsurmountable
not of lengths saved for olympians
but i fear the phenomenon of a mirage

heated air swirled 'round
my barefoot toes
the grass sat wet and dull
i heard the birds chirp confused
and my heart fluttered like their wings
tress budded red
only to be frozen
false starts and heart attacks
after the groundhog saw his shadow.

show me behind the curtain
of velvet and sheer
so the obvious can be made so

i see through a prism filled of light
while the colors you carry
stain my eyes in hues

i can't make out whats green or blue
and cats continue to fear me
but my body is tired so i will rest

and hope this is only a dream.

you looked at my basket of plums
and mentioned how much you love

juicy fruit.

you looked at my lips,
then looked at my eyes, with increasing repetition.

juicy fruit.

i told you
the memories of moments
i have of you.

but today i say

i want more.
moments to make memories
that i'll tenderly keep of you.

my first sight this morning was a thing I've never seen,
a resting squirrel.
and my thought was,
"peace exists"

She will return to me
Just like the shadows of spring;
And I will know her, truly,
Just as the shadows of spring.