I look at you
And see you stripped of your armor
Moonlight casting your nakedness
Into familiar planes and shadows.
I know I should not dwell
In the past
My wandering eye watches
The winter sky above bare trees;
Numerous flocks of geese and ducks
Shattering the variegated gray with blue silhouettes.
I am not comfortable
Dwelling in the present.
The moss is still green upon the roof
Growing in cracks between tiles,
The moisture of the air still nourishing spores;
I put off climbing and removing it.
There is no place in the future,
Let me come home to you.
Dec 20, 2006
|Three Brothers, Taft Bay by CC Willow|