If I Can Put My Hand On A Maple Branch And Feel Its Frozen Bark If My Fingers Blanch At The Remnants

Driving through the hills A little after dinner time I speed in the right lane.

"Don't worry," I sound very reassuring, "I know where I'm going."

I need my glasses And I can't admit to him That actually I can't see And I"m a little lost.

He needs some reassurance Which I hand out like mints, Maybe if I sugar coat it He won't know it's a little harsh, A bit too fresh, with a bite.

It's too cold for rain, Too warm for snow So we don't know what's coming down.

But we are. I'm having a panic attack While laughing at his story.

I wan't to turn around, I've missed the exit. "Trust me," I say "It's okay."

So he does But he shouldn't.

White, red, and green lights Add softness to the dark nights The nights that feel like A warm cup of tea Nights I wish you were here With me Then I remember that you are In the passenger side of my car Don’t you worry about the roads I know they don’t feel like Your roads at home We drive on Christmas Eve Down these old familiar streets It’s one of those years we’re Covered in snow That blankets us in its cozy cold Let’s do a jigsaw by the TV Watching the fireplace dancing freely I know you don’t care For this time of year Still I’m glad that you are here The tree doesn’t look the same When you’re not around Though your world is upside down But we’re right side up in a snowglobe Tonight let’s call that home In a world of pine and wreaths Crackling fires and flannel sheets When I sing to you all those Annoyingly festive songs And you smile and sing along I’ll never try to change your mind To make you love Christmastime I just love sitting with you On a silent night In the glow of these beautiful lights

We are all down to earth here Even the birds in the sky Especially the beetles and bees and flies All as one on our mystical sphere We are all down to earth here

We are all part of the dust If we piled it up, what would it be? Would we create a new being entirely? The magic of our world is hushed We are all part of the dust

In the empty orchard Among the crisp apples And softer pears, Brown and green, The apples red and yellow, Losing their grip On their branches In the hour before dark Where no bonfires burn A quiet that is alone, mine

The air is full of Ragweed and dying grass, The sweet scent of Fallen fruits sinking Into the bed of the earth, Feasts for wriggling worms Before the frost comes Early in the morning, I am here with the last Of the colors of trees

Sheep getting sleepy, Too sleepy to count them Their sounds replaced by The last croaking frogs, The lingering buzzing of Wings on insects, Before they hibernate In frozen lakes Before the sun falls Further behind the barn

As the sun rises out Of the early morning sky I shelter my eyes as It winks at me And I am warmed By the secret between us Of how days are made

Shine brightly, my sun Or are you shy today? Linger behind The safety of a cloud And if you are sad I won't look for you In your escape into rain

My grief feels large and heavy I have cried into buckets And now I am carrying them Around like a punishment

I can't let go, I refuse to I am tied to these burdens Rope raw against my skin For now I need this anguish

And I need you, the source of it Because I am crying for you For the inevitable absence of you I feel it so strongly already

I cannot make promises to you That I might meet you in old age In a time period I cannot predict I cannot promise you a long life Or a vow to always be beside you

It is a desire, a dull craving even To see the sun rise this morning And tomorrow and the next day If I had the ability, or the knowing I would give you security in facts

All that is certain to me currently Is that uncertainty is in our water It is in that river down below us It is in the tap that fills our glasses It is one of the few true comforts I can offer, darling, please don't cry

The inspiration For fiction Brings just A hint of truth

The battlefield The origin The turmoil Becomes a fable

A fantasy world Deeply rooted Sprouts from A very real seed

I, who speaks often But says much of nothing I, who pictures the words That do not come out That stumble over My tongue and teeth My brain a stuttering Then silent and empty

I will my words into being In a moment's pause In the quiet of the writing When my mind races And I can catch my thoughts I send you my voice You, who reads me You, who's eyes Pass over my letters

I, who does not screech Like the hawk in the sky Nestle my meanings in The wanderings of creatures In the sun and the trees They, who speak The same language as me Who might interpret while I am just talking to you

I search for meaning In places where there are Many conflicting meanings, Where there are too many words And all the words are in Different languages.

Still I try to define Emotions that are multiple Emotions, that are vast And endless, that expand And shrink, and exist In a world outside myself.

I traverse dreams That I create in my mind, Where people relate to me In ways they do not actually Relate to me, where we Are all who we need To be to each other, Where we are vague and I am Lost in the details.