
Leaf on Fern - A maple leaf with dew or rain sits on a fern in the early morning. One of those Vermont hikes that I love so much.
Last Time You Said My Name
The last time you said my name
You were wrapped in a waking dream
Your eyes were opened shut
Your mouth playing with words that sounded silent
The last time you said my name
I saw you from afar
You were prompted over and over again
Until something issued forth from your lips
Something I did not hear because I got distracted
The last time you said my name
It was winter, and all the memories of summer
Had turned a pale white, and only the blue in your eyes
Broke through that bleached countenance
Like a robin’s egg
The last time you said my name
I felt the pain I had been feeling disappear
Like the smell of a birthday cake
Or a trip to Florida on a cold Connecticut day