Cats and trees and light green bottles

If  i walked out of the front door,  amongst the trees

and along the street,

making sounds like

children

distressed in the night;

leaves falling,

joining the previously fallen

to make burial mounds

shaped only by the

wind.

If i continued forward past this

debris

and into the park

where this was amplified

by ten

and the children then screamed

their nighttime nightmares,

illustrated in golden brown

falling all around,

becoming damp and

cold and

old.

If i lay down amongst

these rapidly decaying lives

and wept,

what would this do

to

your

eyes?

How would they appear

as the sun rose

and blinded them,

almost?

If i kissed you in the dark,

beneath the sheets,

would the breeze

disturb

us?

and just who

are the people outside the window

tonight,

who insist upon

shouting their pain

at God?

I have lost many

verses to this machine tonight,

but

will always begin

again, because what i

have to say

to you can never

be destroyed

by

anything nor anyone,

ever.

Where exactly are you

right now

baby?

and how does the world

appear to

you?

What thoughts do you hold

and how does the light

fall on your

face?

I have

watched a bird

with only one wing

today,

and do you know what?

he was still able

to

move

forward;

just.

Cats and trees and light green

bottles,

all conspire to get us slammed

against walls and

afraid,

but

tonight i am not afraid

as i think of you

in your gown

upon the

living room floor

looking upward toward

me

with your

eyes

open;

lightly

scented.