Right Next To Me

I see a tree

            Skating in the clouds

Right next to me

            I laugh

                        I write

                                    I go home,

                        The tree with   

                                    Fulsome leaves

             Trunk and all

            Laughs at me,,,

“The fool

            He thinks its his

                        Imagination

            Who ever heard

Of someone

Thinking                      about

                                                Flying trees?”

I heard a dead cow sing

            My ears were leather straps

                        They wouldn’t let in

            The sounds,

The words of love

            I cry

                        I write

                                    I wonder ...why?

The dead cow

            Danced into a clover field

            And invited me in

I thought                                  of rising into the clouds.

Right next to me.

I felt the glue

            Seeping into my hands

            I placed the envelope down

                        For it was cutting itself

            Right next to me

                        I’m asking impossible questions.

                                                            Am I dreaming?

                                                            I write

                                                            I sleep

                                                            Not knowing

                                                            What lies inside

The slowly disappearing envelope

            I crumpled it

            It crumpled me

            Besides.

I felt the pang

            Of history

                        Looking lively

I wrote

            I painted

                        I sketched

Only three seconds passed

            Right next me

                        Even the paint hadn’t dried

By the time I looked

Inside the picture

            Looking for me

                        but the words were still fresh

                        and

                        the charcoal was almost dust.

I saw the tree

            Again that same day

Right next to me

            I wrote

                        I asked

                                    I laughed

But the message

            It wrote to me

                        Was unclear

                        In English

The meaning was left

            Wandering outside

                        My window.