Tag Archives: tulip tree

Three Months In

 

In the first month you were satisfied
with a single sentence meant for you—
a question about your views on climate change
or a query into your childhood activities—
and then a compliment exchanged on Facebook
somehow flooded your body with endorphins
that lingered all day because
another human being you’d never even met
seemed to be as curious about you
as you were about him—
and before you know it a month has passed
and you’re kissing this stranger
under the white dome of a January sky
beside a tulip tree—and this memory
will become a source of great joy
even when you begin to realize it was a mistake
to think you could cruise through February
without falling in love with his skin touching yours—
and you’re a fool to expect anything but wildflowers
to bloom in March, because you are both tethered
to stones you’re not strong enough to move.

 

 

 

 

 

 

DeMaris
3-3-17

 

Photograph by Ansel Adams, “Clearing Storm”

 

 

Love, Declined

It truly didn’t matter
how happy we were
sitting on that fallen oak
covered with snow
talking about the things
we’d do come spring
or how perfectly content
you seemed
pinned to the tulip tree
which helped you stand
as I kissed you for the
thousandth time
with no way to know
it would be the last—
all our talks and laughter
and comfortable silences
weren’t right enough
for those words
you whispered in my ear
to mean what I thought
they would mean
when I wanted to know
if we could be more
than just a foolish wish
that wouldn’t come true.

 

 

 

 

DeMaris
1-31-17