there is my tree
i planted it some years ago
when i did
i let nature decide if it would live
i left it
in the hands of the unknown
now after many seasons
it is strong
stronger than those
planted with intention and hope
i left hope aside
and it is strong
the toy sword
gifted to me
as a child
rests in the corner
of my room
i am no longer
a child
anger
tears
laughter
tears
laughter
laughter
tears
anger
anger
the gray sky
holds a crow
gently in the
folds of
seamless clouds
pattern
of melt-water
drip
the breeze stirs
the chimes
they brush against
bare branches
the breeze slows
melt-water
dripping
silhouettes of trees
dusk
blue sky fading
branches breathe in the
wind
the wind
passes through
the trees
bare branches
sway
then the house
starts to creak
we are
talking
the snow
does not pile up
It was never meant to last
but I lose track of where it
falls across the fields
the ones untouched by wanderers
unmarked except for
a tree that breaks up the
rolling surface
there, the snow is deep
It was meant to be there
How does my breath
get taken by yours?
When I speak,
you seem to draw out the marrow
from my words.
If my words come from fear,
you take in the shadows.
If they come from longing,
then I am left holding only
the remains of desire.
Is this
how we share?
Breath at the core,
yet I am
grasping at empty air.
a gray morning
a cup of hot tea
I set my thoughts aside
and watch for sunlight
I taste the sweet tea
lingering on my lips
I wish I could hold time
just slow it down enough
so daylight moves slowly
never quite arriving
and my tea
never gets cold
onebreathpoetry.com 