What more remains
The slow rising sun just behind the row of pines.
The quiet bending branch reaching over an ice-frosted bridge.
An early morning walk down by the snow covered creek with
your lover's arm protectively hooked around your waist
and it begins to snow once again.
Simple things worth your attention;
like soul-stirring books
pastels in early Spring
rust and moss-green train tracks
her blushing skin after you kiss her
the feeling of butterfly wings in your belly
& the scent of wildflowers in her hair
"Tell me more. What still remains?"
You whispering. "There is nothing more beautiful
than the way your cheeks blush when you catch me staring at you."
Falling in love with honest conversations.
Forgiving broken promises and the sunsets
you never shared but meant to.
Following the beautiful things, like
her footsteps in the sand that leads you
to the softest touch of incoming frothy waves.
Old moonlit attics filled with poetry books
and long ago laughter in the grains of sand
spilling from broken hourglasses
Road trips without direction
Abandoned old farmhouse,
still holding on to the seasons
The song of the perched bird
on a rusted clothes line,
a crawling vine in the barley field
"And still..."
Pebbles and seashells beneath the frost.
The slow chill turning the windmill.
The perfume lingering on the evergreen branch.
The winter and love songs in us.
The wild, the vines, the waves, the fire,
the dawn and the passion in us.
The flesh yearning to be touched.
The irresistible impulse to surrender.
The tangled reflection of two souls.
unblemished hearts in the universe
The prisms of light by the roadside,
a lantern's glow on the porch
A small weathered compass,
the pursuit of happiness,
and other small difficulties in our paths
"Tell me again tomorrow, what more remains".
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