foryou
Dear You (my most of friend),
The window is too square, I want to open it up and sand the edges
to make it a circular view, like the moon and its portents rising through
the stenciled-bare tree, the twigs caked with ice. Through the bushes
I can see your evergreen eyes blinking spring into the bird's nests.
When I walked by with a trail of rabbits behind me you "psst'd" me,
and them, into your most spectacular of homes, the bed made from discarded
lint littered by milkmaids. Remember when there was
no one else? The gardens were deserted of people and full of bounty.
I took all the nasturtium seeds I could find that night, and I planted them in the window, next to the rosemary.
I watched the shoots burst through, cracking the firm soil and singing like I sing and coo, coo for you.
Next spring we'll plant Dahlias.