I’m slowly looking onward.
You all taught me how.
But when the weather is warm, I can still see our island.
I feel our hands clasped in a circle,
hear the trees above me as the wind refuses to halt.
We said that when we started,
we became who we are.
We could breathe in the summer when we were standing close.
And we argued it all: mistakes, human flaw, the presence of God.
And maybe you’ve forgotten,
but I hope when you look back
you still sing a green willow.
I tried to sway your broken mind, felt the pain of your direction,
and our audience told us it seemed so honest
and it was.
The day you asked us where we live, I waited for a letter.
I waited to hear that maybe I touched your life as much as you did mine,
something tangible to prove that it was all real.
I never got a letter.
But I’ll forgive the grounds of England we were never quite able to touch.
I’ll forgive the brief good bye given over a cheap dinner,
for the moments we smiled on the grass assure me that you came for a reason.
Though at times the silence still shuts my open mind,
when I hear your voice singing through my speakers,
I remember your influence.
You told us how you gave up everything to follow your dreams:
“It’s hard to do what you love,” you said.
You gave us up, too.
I remember running on the treadmill on a Sunday afternoon,
looking up only to see you on the TV screen,
proud to call you someone I once knew.
I continued to run, singing a green willow.
Maybe we’ll meet again
The poor soul sat sighing
in the place you’re sure is heaven.
by a sycamore tree
We’ll be on our island,
sing all a green willow
and I will feel our hands clasped in a circle,
*her hand on her *****
hear the trees above me as the wind refuses to halt,
her head on her knee
and think about that summer when we became who we are.
sing all a green willow
We will trace our memories back to the days that we were young
sing willow, willow, willow.
Oct 19, 2012
Oct 19, 2012 at 3:14 PM UTC
I’m slowly looking onward.
You all taught me how.
But when the weather is warm, I can still see our island.
I feel our hands clasped in a circle,
hear the trees above me as the wind refuses to halt.
We said that when we started,
we became who we are.
We could breathe in the summer when we were standing close.
And we argued it all: mistakes, human flaw, the presence of God.
And maybe you’ve forgotten,
but I hope when you look back
you still sing a green willow.
I tried to sway your broken mind, felt the pain of your direction,
and our audience told us it seemed so honest
and it was.
The day you asked us where we live, I waited for a letter.
I waited to hear that maybe I touched your life as much as you did mine,
something tangible to prove that it was all real.
I never got a letter.
But I’ll forgive the grounds of England we were never quite able to touch.
I’ll forgive the brief good bye given over a cheap dinner,
for the moments we smiled on the grass assure me that you came for a reason.
Though at times the silence still shuts my open mind,
when I hear your voice singing through my speakers,
I remember your influence.
You told us how you gave up everything to follow your dreams:
“It’s hard to do what you love,” you said.
You gave us up, too.
I remember running on the treadmill on a Sunday afternoon,
looking up only to see you on the TV screen,
proud to call you someone I once knew.
I continued to run, singing a green willow.
Maybe we’ll meet again
The poor soul sat sighing
in the place you’re sure is heaven.
by a sycamore tree
We’ll be on our island,
sing all a green willow
and I will feel our hands clasped in a circle,
*her hand on her *****
hear the trees above me as the wind refuses to halt,
her head on her knee
and think about that summer when we became who we are.
sing all a green willow
We will trace our memories back to the days that we were young
sing willow, willow, willow.
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