Once Green

Once Green


After all, what could be said of the leaves
we crush underfoot but that we remember them

as we remember ourselves: part of something,
two children in the park, burdening each other

with our play, thoughts of winter to come;
that we shall remain as they: perennially young,

growing mornings from whispers, how long
these arms that reach upwards, elevation

by inches as we shine with the wanting
to leap, to dance on air and – in our own time –

to risk a sidewalk kiss in the middle of someday,
regardless of the consequences.



***From All the Ways We Could Have Met
and previously published in Softblow.