You held me gently
to your bosom. And
cradled in each other's arms,
smiling were the sum
of years and fears.
Reaching out, you touched
my lips, my eyes.
You could feel the words
I never would speak,
the vision I did not see.
I held your soft face
in my hard hands.
In time, in tattered memory
the faint smiles we knew
will dim, will dim.
Garrulous trees are full
of things to smell
strange, strange things.
Branches are weighted down
with leaf blankets
deep, deep green.
My mistress is the sun.
Like a cat, perched
high, high up.
On a hidden branch, she
springs down to play,
play, play dead.