Leave Breadcrumbs

Never trust an early spring,
a lover who works late,
or directions that end in “you can’t miss it”.
Because you can.

You can miss it so fast that one day you look up
and it’s so gone that you almost
forget you ever had it.

You can miss it so easily that one day you turn around
and it’s so not there that you nearly
doubt it ever was.

You can miss it so deeply that one day you wake up
and it’s so far away that you might
think it was just a dream

Bring a sweater.
Change the locks.
Write your own directions.
Leave breadcrumbs.

 

#86

Show Me a Story

Show me a story.
I want to see what you’ve seen,
be where you’ve been.
Leave me a trail of words like
breadcrumbs, tender morsels
pointing the way through the woods.

Show me a story.
I want to smell what you’ve smelt
feel what you’ve felt.
I’ll spin around blindfolded
while you shout out
“cold, warm, hot – very hot. Or not.”

Show me a story.
I want to hear what you’ve heard
Fear what you’ve feared.
I am a child, waiting in the dark
outside of your window
whispering “Marco?”

 

#82