27.2.10
Offering
Golden hair, sun gold, all levels of the day
she lowered her mug, smiled, said
you can always stay with me.
Shade pulling long, summer noises, moon
half-painted over the faraway copse,
I gripped rough grass in ten fingers.
We haven't spoken for months.
Memento of my green years, she said
time takes forever to pass, surprise.
Vacant spiderweb hammocks, empty tent
caterpillar clouds, acorn caps full of dust.
A waterless existence, and yet.
It doesn't have to be, she sighed.
Cloy of the crush of plants filling gaps,
filtering star fields, in orderly rows beneath.
Freedom, virgin sister of a natural death,
I am ever homeward drawn to you.
Red feather, young oak, endless lake.
Come back to me, she said.
We hung up our chairs, dishes for morning,
door just ajar so the moths could escape.
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