SSB

there was a day
we rose with the song birds and
all this crystal light, refracting, illuminating, multiplying. It was a gentle space
to be alive. A
one room solace with a thinning Persian rug
on the floor and an entire wall of windows
to show soft winds and ghost cats
tap tapping to be let in.
you had never heard me sound
so loud
wolf howls and tightly shut eyes scared off the approaching deer. There was
one gas light set to burn low
your black cherry eyes, thick hair smoothed behind your ears. I had
midnight visions of you as aged and grey
silver on your fingers and
how fast this present turns it's belly
to decompose with all other matter, so ripe.
so long ago, we
peeked through the red cedar and avowed
to keep
what felt so precious. In those four walls we
asked questions of crystals anchored to chain
whispering truths out of the chimney to commune
with who knows what.
I never would have thought,
such growth as ours would have come
from such silence as this