So for today, here are two poems uncovered in old files.
Overgrown
Distance makes the heart grow fonder.
Or perhaps it just grows,
sprouting wild shoots that crop up like dandelions
in your carefully groomed backyard.
One morning you wake to find your heart a dense forest of undergrowth,
tropical flowering vines spanning the continent.
So you follow the vines across the miles
to see if they bear fruit. Arrive with a wavering smile,
cupping your dirty hands around your heart.
But tendrils creep between your fingers,
trip you when you step off the plane.
If he is surprised by your leafy appearance, he doesn’t say
but kisses you quickly and leads you away.
Carelessly stepping on a fallen frond.
He had tried to warn you that tropical vines won’t grow in this climate
and he looks at you with disapproval and pity
when you undress and reveal your budding body.
You believe, you believe that once he tastes their nectar
he will plant you in his yard to drink from you each day.
His forage into the forest is cautious,
like an explorer in new land.
He is astonished; he is pleased.
He grins like Adam when he first sees Eve
and he grasps your colorful petals in his pale hands and caresses each stem.
But soon you notice your leaves begin to fall,
the flowers droop and the tendrils stall in creeping
to hang limply along your thighs.
Foolish, foolish, we’ve all be foolish.
Pick up your dead leaves and broken vines
and return to your own earth.
Wait till spring and plant a garden
outside your window, not outside your berth.
Falling Angels
Better the angel you know
even if fallen angel is.
Your mother’s voice is a reminder
of a broken adage,
a needle through your thoughts
trailing scarlet thread.
The cliff of indecision is your to stand on
and fall from.
A cloud of distracted wisdom
the flimsy net to catch your fall.
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