The white frost is gone.
The lemon tree has grown.
I want to talk to you about your heart
that you’ve been neglecting lately like a cold.
And you don’t even know.
The white frost is gone.
The lemon tree has grown
so much stronger since you were here
last spring with seeds, pebbles and a hope.
It was an ineffable moment
when she raised her eyes and met his gaze,
like a deer looking up from the plain
for an instant and finding berries.
The rain came ever so softly,
like the cat’s paw, or the wind-chime’s song
sung by a pair of sparrows on telephone pole.
I stayed up at night mending the lint-balled hem
of my heart that barely kept you warm last winter.
Time never stopped passing through the moth holes.
Out on the rain-soaked lawn, an old pair
of faded memories died tragically on the hangers.
I wrung them out while you, love and a raindrop fell.
and suddenly, amid the familiar colors
of this nightfall, I remembered
your wine-stained lips,
our blueberry kiss.
Originally published on October 18th, 2015 on my old blog.
