"Forgive him," he said

"Like the ocean forgives
the big rocks that break
it against the shoreline. Like
rain forgives sunlight for
burning it away in
the afternoon. "

But she is not as forgiving as water. She is a
woodpecker carving out a surgery niche in the
wide trunk of a tall tree standing in an orchard. They
spent the previous springtime at each other's throats. In
her mind he chased her through that sunlit summer field and
her ankles were scarred by the nettles and dragonflies weren't funny
at all. Pulling twigs from her tangled hair she will never let him forget that
he did not prepare a place for her in his heart. She is as relentless
as the blizzard wind against his bare limbs. He was an
over-exposed portrait. A wet sculpture.
A collage.