Waiting for Spring |
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I saw you last August |
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mayfly-eaten brown memories falling |
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cascading down amongst the leaves |
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you saw me there |
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briefly anyway |
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failing to recognize my importance |
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(and haven't you always?) |
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that mole looks kind of familiar, |
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no? |
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(you always noticed things like that |
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back in my days of pretending). |
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I pondered you |
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the millionth time |
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would I approach |
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hold back |
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shout |
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sneak around behind you |
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(as you did with me |
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a life ago) |
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? |
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you never knew me |
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why pretend that |
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when you can pretend for me |
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one more lie |
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another image to tighten |
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the thick, strong |
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very real rope |
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you weave for your own neck? |
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I saw you last August |
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the only leaves that fell |
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were in the hulking |
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size thirteen silhouettes of |
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crushed |
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formerly green grass |
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waiting to spring back to life |
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once you leave. |
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Content © copyright 2003 by Lizzy Miller. All rights reserved.