Little Stevie's Memory

We're shown dark green pastures
swaying in the breeze,
and a candy acid sun
blanketed in trees.
The birds are all quiet
for miles around,
and there's little Stevie,
not making a sound.

He's to busy thinking
of what he will say
to Claire Batre
on their picnic today.
Dressed in his best clothes,
parted is his hair,
and grasped gingerly in his hand
is a flower for Claire.

A small blue jay
nested above little Stevie's head,
flies off towards true north
where the pink sky is turning red.
Returning the same way
dressed in sunshine yellow,
is little Claire
coming to meet her little fellow.

Their cupid eyes meet,
can't help but to smile and laugh.
They both run to each other,
feeling all at once whole instead of just half.
Walking hand in hand
they go to the perfect place.
Where the grass is like a downy pillow,
and the twinkling glitter falls without a trace.

He lays down the blanket,
she gently dresses each plate.
Not caring abou the past and future,
just the moment they create.
They respectfully consume,
while they sing of innocent things.
Unaware of the blood streaks of twilight,
or the last sun rays tied tightly around them like strings.

The man on the moon
nestles into the stars that are his bed,
and the fire flies come out to dance
as the last words are said.
A kiss was how they parted
before they went their own ways,
and this is the night
Little Stevie will remember the rest of his days.