Monday, October 15, 2012

A poem I dreamed then woke up and wrote down.

If I stand in this now-lonely stairwell
If I stare at this empty brick wall
Will I see your lips in the ridges
Or your shy gaze in the mortar?

If I climb to the top of this wintery hill
Where vows were made in summer
Where vows were kept in fall
And turn my back to the breeze
Will I feel your warm breath on my neck
Or see your arms outstretched in the bare branches?

If I travel to a city where we’ve never been
Free of vows, of longing, of looks leading to lips
Will a wall remain a wall?
Would a tree be just wood?
Or will a brick remind me of a stairwell remind me of a kiss
And a tree remind me of a hill remind me of a ring
So that I can never escape you like I can’t escape the wind on a hilltop
Or a sigh in an empty bed.