Tuesday, February 3, 2015

This Heritage Of Ice And Autumn Glass

"I see more when I'm with you." So she said
One year before she left me. Ask it, now:
What can I give a woman, that might last?
Money? Social status? These are not mine.
No perks of property, no fame, no heights
To conquer for the public eye, no star
Potential or prerequisite achieved.
I never was a man the people saw;
Instead, I was a fool with staring eyes.

I could show you moonlight in the wind
When cold star crystals leap above the snow.
And even as the autumn leaves reflect
The lava flows of sunset, new leaves burn
Red as marsh lights, for a single noon
Before the green appears. The moon, you see,
That egg within a shattered nest of mist?
The heron striding on its own reflection?
The raisin-scented torches of the sumac
That draw the chickadees in hornet crowds?

This heritage of ice and autumn glass
Is all I have to offer. If you see
These minor joys already as you pass,
Then you will find no further use for me.

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