You
This is for the first time when I saw you standing there
with your curly, brown hair hung over the stare in your eyes
that made me first fall in love your great spark of humor
which starts the beginning of every end that begins with a smile
And all the while, you thought you were one of those ordinary people
which you read about in a book, but if you look,
you are my mountain of greatness
which collects the passing words flowing through your lips
like water in the fountain of youth and beauty that dips
into a puddle of clocks ticking and melting like snow
But when it dissolves, it flows and grows, into an ocean of feelings, deeply kept
like the sorrow of your tears that yesterday caused, recklessly
Like sliding in the mud, trudging uphill, facing the wind of dim, sweet irony
that in fact, I’ve never seen, like the clean, new shine of your legs under your jeans
But I’m willing to take the benefit of the doubt
that this will make you walk with your back in my view,
like taillights in the dark, under the stars, where we first sat and your hand touched my arm
and it was warm like a poem, hidden under your door, on the cold floor
where my mind was once before I met your sweet face
And all my thoughts are based on and on
until you leave like the leaves in the fall that fall into orange and red
which you dream of in bed
Its 3 A.M. and I can’t close my eyes
I try, but the wind is blowing too hard to hear your breathing
not clear enough to touch or brush with my fingertips, that lingers in memory of your name
sliding across the paper and pen that just ran out of ink.
Your face is still on my mind the whole time I write these words that rhyme every line
as I sigh, deep as a hurricane
But I can’t blame the moon that shines over the sun
that I will see when I open my eyes to a surprise
that I may have just dreamt of us together, when the weather was once like this
and it brings me back to where I started…you.
Copyright © Marybeth Creveling | Year Posted 2005
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