Pin back your hair
with flower and bone.
Decorate your house
with river skipped stone.
Breathe in deep
the musty smell of loam.
Seal all your letters
hang up your phone.
Leave your bank
discard your loan.
Redefine the outside world
as a part of your home.

We ran naked down to the fairy cicrles
and laughed like sweet summertime.
I know it seems a thousand years
and triple that number of miles
away and ago. I know. I know.
It can't happen tomorrow,
never would today but, old friend,
it could be one yesterday away.

I loved you like family
and held you like hope.
You smiled so darkly
and bound me in rope.
And tragedy followed us
wouldn't let us cope.
Happiness a breath outta reach
and way beyond scope.
We refused to talk about it
pausing only to mope.
A tired old story, perhaps,
filled with tired old trope.
I once asked for my freedom
you called me a dope.

This morning I plucked a daisy
like the ones you'd put in your braid
and remembered a life we were given.
Where we were forced to behave.
I won't ask you to recall it
I won't force you to be so brave.
I no longer have my fire, my spark.
I'm hollow now, my world bare and dark.
Happy, for sure but much less gallant.

Sing me a song
in six or so notes.
Float me away
in several old boats.
Bundle against the cold
in scarves or in coats.
It's coming day over day
regardless of votes.
We've become empty
as brand new totes.
Spectacle without substance
like parade floats.

When I was young
the tragedy made me a hero.
Today I've become
just a man.
It's all gotten better
but it's all out of my hands.
It's not what I expected
I've learned not to plan.