Surrey, springtime

This long afternoon settles lightly
On your parents’ land, slants across
The fence you built
With your hands
You point somewhere deeper
Past the romantic moss (you note that
It’s suffocating the good trees
Trying to grow up underneath)
Somewhere into woods, to
The distant rustling- a deer, some other
Creature, your childhood.
I’m squinting
Through the green blur while we
Stand still between
The buzzing and the swaying,
The dust picking up around my
Bare toes; you tell me,
“Someday—”

Surrey, springtime

christym

Joined October 2009

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