Slim young tree braced against my back
Intricately patterned shadows fall
Dancing with the branches in the wind
Landscape dirt carved with a stick
Churned up in the shape of a name
The name that stalks this place
The breeze tugs a strand of golden hair
Playfully into my face
Clichéd, murmurs in my ear
Reminding me
Of the thoughtful circles I run
Brown eyes, song lyrics and curses
One curl of hair falls into his face
Relentless pull
Me through the same
Sweeping confusion
Flowers Turn their faces
To the honeyed sunlight
As it drips through the branches
Freckling my pale skin
I breathe in the smells
Of everything beginning anew
As I turn a bend
Down the same old road