Saturday, April 14, 2007

#356: April 14, 2007

When I came back, the fields were just as green
as two years past. The buildings were the same.
The old faces peeked out among the new,
but slightly changed. And though your words were kind,
the spaces in between them stretched too long,
the friendly clasp of fingers broke to soon.
Already, then, you were forgetting me.

Later, alone, as I wandered between
college and house, a thing I couldn't name
turned my steps toward the back fields, where the blue
cold light and waist-high weeds bent and entwined.
I shed my clothes--for, naked, we belong
to just ourselves. Beneath that foreign moon
I walked back, silent, like a refugee.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

"I think I feel a pain in my chest".