remember the melt
He’d walk inside and all the walls would melt.
It was always that easy to just fall into wide open spaces
and sit beneath a tree staring up at the night sky,
fingers entwined like roots, lost in the philosophy of words
that meant the world to my blushing ears.
And during the storms, as the screaming skies
rained their anger down in hurricanes
and flooded the marshes in scars and inerasable memories
the sky would suddenly glare down at us with heaving breath
to remind us of the light we’d once again forsaken.
Watching clouds float like dandelions across the blue
we couldn’t help but part ways and build new houses
so that we could stare out at skeleton trees, willing them to grow
deluding our eyes into seeing green, when nothing but dirty windows
and empty earth stood between us and a phone call.
“It is easy to miss you when you’re gone,
easier still to miss you when you’re here.”
Our fingers digging down beneath the tree roots
trying to find a way back to melting walls
and wide open spaces.
© Indie Adams 2012