Diggin up the Roots

hibiscus
I was just layin round,
On the black night stoop,
Smoking something I’d found,
Neath a crease in the truth,
When she rolled up like my old fears,
Got out and made the steps in arrears,
Stood her high way, straight back and strut,
And in that instant, I knew my life was but,
A shadow, a mere moment in time,
The bile rose in my throat, and sank to my gut,
Every time we’d made love came rushing forth,
Pouring over me like good scotch, she – mine,
Me a man of words, soft and low, had not one,
She a woman of straight looks and guile,
Must have known her hair alone would stun,
Silence lay heavy, as the moon rose above,
Not accidentally it bore, my love to here,
Smoke rose from my smoke, crystal glass I loved,
Same one she had painted, with careful, thoughtful cheer,
Heavy in my hand this crafted vessel weighed,
Now the only tie, held in my hand she peered,
And not a word between us played,
Silence stilled instead the black night cold,
Standing like an angel fallen, as sure as my swear,
She held my heart in a box, beating now as old,
Almost too much for this beating heart to bear,
What happens when the past shows up to face,
The future now rising like this full, bright moon,
I don’t presume to understand what happens,
When not word passes, but the flowers know to bloom,
In the morn bright with springtime hope,
She reached for my glass and made more room,
I lifted my head, my heart already afloat,
Sprung up and blew, a whale from somewhere deep,
Had stayed down so long that his lungs had wrote,
Some kind of deep wail, a song for the dying,
And in that moment without words, we stood trying,
To dig up the roots, somewhere planted long before,
I in my loss and she in her gain, found roots galore.

About Pitboss14

Cosmic surfer of paradoxes.
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