The Blue Roses and I

The Blue Roses and I

 

I followed your trail as far

as the edge of this town covers

and came to a meadow of roses,

who hung their heads and bent low in the wind.

It is here that I have been waiting

 

You crept through me in the night,

as I lay sleeping beneath these drooping fingers.

I thought I felt you in my dreams.

When I woke, I found the flower

that you had left for me, all colored blue.

 

Now these flowers and I are covered with snow.

Together, we poke our hopeful heads

out from under this blanket, only

to rest them back down on the cold.

This place is starting to look tired and gray.

 

When the snow melted from my bones,

I opened up my eyes and saw you there,

swinging from the branch of this aging willow.

You smiled, and kissed the air in my direction,

your hair flew behind you in the wind.

 

I wondered if you were really here.

The air around me still smells like you,

and I can almost see impressions under

the bough, but the swing is motionless and empty.

In unison, we hang our heads and wait for the light to return.