The dark sun plunges like a slow motion meteor toward the valley floor
We, ski tips hanging over the cliff appear to be vaulting into the void
The skis racked up on the van, I toss the gear in;
I stand upon this snowy hill that for months I looked forward to
It's gone
So it's off to the future and the setting sun,
Throats hoarse. Our Chevy van leaks
To the street, 'snap,'
The roaring metal river rushes to the iced pavement to head for that big pond,
Empty a lodge parking lot
Behind it – your high cheekbone stare
Your boyfriend, old enough to drive
So let the sun continue to pursue the day it lost;
The black ink that chased him chases us –
To blot the day and the things we've done.
We broke into the city; Not our destination; Our destination lies on past, further
The city's dull glare hurts night-sharpened eyes. Darkness comes, but as a friend
This time, not as the invasive irritant, but cool water to cover our too hot brain;
Night rules with a light hand; It frees the mind, bid you to reflect on the previous
Day, however, intrudes, takes you on its own ride
We small town kids have not yet sold our souls; Nature taught us regularity
In its cycles and its systems. We look for the familiar yellow meadows of home
That shivering, hold onto green-mounded foothills;
The fields are hard seen; A thief – Someone pocketed her yellow gleam
Within her cloak. The sun, though mortal, does not withhold its blast
In fear –
I swear I sat next to you in a dream;
Legs crossed, high cheeks, Indian style
Your black hair flowed near me like a gentle wind;
Your stories put me in a better place. I give you this from deep in my being –
That horrible pit I fell into had me so trapped, I scratched up its steel walls;
I could not find the stairs, nor see above me a light;
You papered the skeleton of my Pegasus Kite, made me sit cross-legged,
And amazed me with ghost stories.
Your special kite (how that box could fly) went to join the Robinson's
In outer space. I ran along my big sister, crossed the golden yellow fields
That promised to yield its fruit
Of animals, bright kids, kites, thick red watermelon.
Our field's skin quivers as sheathers the four winds
To her, and we run to touch roads we're not yet seen.
Sis, quick, who owns no shadow? You lend him your shadow; I'll lend him mine
We'll chase the shadows of blue box kites with black tails.
We'll grow up all over in shadow land.
How many tree, chair shadows have you explored, lake shadows,
Shadows of forests, fir and pine? All opposite of what we've known.
It takes thirty seconds to snap
The bud off a maple branch split its two wings in half, throw
Your helicopter up to heaven – Say 'No'
To goodbye …