I always think of you.
I think of the color green:
the tint of old photos,
the lively dancing of your eyes,
your turtleneck in your
official schoolteacher portrait--
of summer--
the grass under my feet
as I run around the yard
so big to little me
and your wrinkled hand keeping me from running too far--
your curtains hanging in your dining room
when the sunlight peeked through them--
the cushions of the dining room chair
where you sat and talked and ate and
made funny faces
sometimes with curlers still in your hair--
the stems and leaves of wildflowers
that Grandpa picked for you
sitting in a coffee tin on the microwave--
the clover planted in empty ice cream pails
in the living room
and you telling me I was lucky
because I'd found one with four leaves--
the grassy **** blanket on the fold-out
bed in the living room where you
sometimes napped--
the bitter tea you drank
for your weak heart--
and the markings on the cannula tube
snaking up
to the oxygen mask
covering your smiles---
your laughing green eyes
on your last day.

entrapped in your curse
I fell under your spell
those big green eyes melted me
and after finally coming back together
there's nothing left inside

This grove,
I’ve been here before many times
So green, pure and warmly serene
It feels so right to be here, so good
Yet, somethings missing from this place
I’m sure its been here many times before
But every time I arrive
It seems I’ve just missed it
And all that’s left are the remnants

Footprints in the soft grass
Elegant, effortless, peaceful
The sweet smell in the air
Vibrant, free, joyful
And echoes of a song
pure, clear, and serene

I run hopefully into this grove each day
And when the spirit of this place flows through me
the flowers rise and reach for the sky
so beautiful, so full of life
but when I see she’s gone away
and again, I’m too late
the flowers fall back into the earth
and wait
wait
for that moment

the moment when we both arrive
and all the hope I’ve ever had is met
eye to eye
heart to heart
and soul to soul
the moment when all the mystery, all the waiting
and all the hopeful, missed chances come to truth
the day that I run into this grove and find her there
not leaving, not fading, but staying, remaining
I don’t know what ill say, what ill do or how ill be
But I do know
that all those flowers that only ever rose to fall
they’ll stand up
straight, strong, bright and tall
and they’ll stay.

But it would seem today is not that day
Again her presence slipped past me as I entered this grove
So for now ill just sit here in stillness
gaze at the peaceful way she walked,
breath in the fragrance of the joy she left in the air,
watch the flowers as they rise and fall
and sleep as I listen to the echoes of this song

Ill sit here and bask in these wonderful remnants as they fade
Always returning to wait in hope for that fateful day
And maybe the next time she arrives as I have gone
She’ll sit down
look at the footprints
Smell the air
Watch the flowers
And listen to my song

Some would say the lush green forest on the mountainside is perfect
But I know almost every forest
Lush or grey
Is plagued with disease
Whether it is the tiniest of parasites
Or the most destructive of predators.