Her Song

See that girl all blush and thin
See the sky that dangles
At the edge of her whim
Blue dress exploding all around her
Hear the galloping of her youth

Hear her song
Of heart so long the sound
Held in dimming light
Covered with a flannel gown
Hung in the sun to flower

She walks where eyes watch
And melts as she passes each whisper
Her colt legs strong in root take note
Of each cracked sidewalk cloaked
With her impatience

She is falling in love with a love song
That plays her each night in dim
Her skin like angel dust when touched
Leaves a pattern laced with trust

See this woman strong yet fragile
She who walks the road less traveled
Dusted off from many falls
The girl still sings within her walls
Her song

Gone Now

February is gone now,
with her quick, clean lines
and tilting globe of determined sky.

She hung her skirt out wantonly
on the naked open neighborhood,
dark with clouds and pink with dawn,
I listened as her tongue licked trees.

No need for solace in her rain,
my weeping chalice is gone,
where winter skies and dappled roads
flush the aching river in me
to the sea.

A tree was made so love could stay
and blossoms gamely on that day
with pink peach petals weeping down
where tears have not an opening found.

February is gone now,
with her quick, clean lines
and tilting globe of determined sky.

I have fondly said goodbye.