1241

once more
my skittish tree
come down with your branches
and your golden lips
that lust for company that always
made you true

in ‘97 you were an artist
with your perched hat
and your baseball bat
priceless in your infancy
crawling down the lane

in '72 your parents first met
some saplings on the field
watching the moths flicker
and covering their coughs
catching eyes and hands

won’t you
entwine me
your silk ribbons
visions
on a tombstone mind
and hey I forgot
I’m feeling your vines
click and clatter
up and down my ribs
now honey
I know you’re near