by plumsouls

This morning different trees wait for my attention.

I am quiet, absorbed by your touch,

still shimmering on the back of my wrist,

or maybe it’s just my own hair, still platinum from summer,

the color of a lullaby (did you say it or did I?)

. . .

Watch how I turn everything into you-

blue ink on a reciept,

crimson leaves on my car,

open windows I walk past.

I lost my interest in nature,

obsessed instead with touching soft things-

a velvet button becomes the Earth’s vital core, and

while I am there, the leaves changed,

subtle as shifting stars.

. . .

I’m in a new season with you,

free of all I think,

free of remembering,

and I don’t have to tell you anything

because you already know.