A Poem of Longing

he told me once of a story.
as we sat in old love seats
in that antique bookstore
on hollywood and vine.


Picture yourself on a boat on a river,
With tangerine trees, and marmalade skies...


the boy on the train.
the lonely face.
single blade of grain in hand.
an apple.
and a leather bound rawhide journal.
"the mustard seed," said he, "is so tiny."
his eyes shone like orbs of flourescent white as mirrored reflections of blue and red danced from left to right.
"yet it so beautifully blankets those hillsides."


Somebody calls you,
But you answer quite slowly,
A girl with kaleioscope eyes.


country side roads.
tire swings.
the crunch of earth 'neath bare toes.
torn denim overalls.
dirty fingernails.


Celophane flowers of yellow and green,
Towering over your head.
Look for the girl with the sun in her eyes,
and she's gone...


cherry blossom trees.
mahogany and oak.
candied walnuts.
crinkled pages.
mineral water.
baguettes.
wind beaten hair.

memories so palpable,
it hurts.

[ohimisshimsomuch]