You inquire like a fly in a trap
With terrible insomnia
Your pale skin ignites a drifting sea
Growing horses and pianos
That lap and carry the waves to a numb edge
The butterfly is inflamed
But you came here for the sap of my milkweed
Nobody ever took you seriously
Bird watcher of the morning
I watch the sun through the clouds
Gather and pucker
But this landscape is not real
It doesn\'t belong to Shishkin
The sky is forlorn and it tells me
We are not made of stars
Think of where the moonlight shines on the roof
Perfect your craft
Burnish the rough edges until they\'re silver
I say
This poem is a flower for you
My gift to you
Everything I do, I do for you
With kindness
With love
I pray that tomorrow will be polite
That the black sky
Will be full of fruit and we will return to innocence
With kindness
With love
Because the past is fading like a memory
It\'s sad but it\'s beautiful
How the summer disappeared
The tangerine leaves of the dancing night
Tucked under my arms
I close my eyes and see
The fog rolling over the hills
I close my eyes and hear
The wedding bells echoing
When the children flutter
And hold their eager hands out for money
The light of the sunset
Far gone
Past the gilded path.