For months, weeks, days
you’ve been falling in love
with his surface and his pretty eyes
and the way he sees the world
as a broken toy
he’s determined to fix—
and you love the sound of his voice
teaching you the Latin names
of every wildflower and tree
that grows along the river—
and you smile when he smiles
as the sandhill cranes fly home
and when the monarchs return
from their winter retreat—
and you love the way he loves you
so freely and correctly,
without expectations or demands—
and now that you’ve broken
the surface and reached his depth
you know you can’t ask him
to belong to you—which would be
like asking a wild thing
to feel free inside a cage.










Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s