On an island in the ocean,
reaching through cold fog, were trees
old and wise
We stood, enamored with their size
Taking in the long lines of their strong limbs
wanting to climb up
and in
You stood, eyeing the pines with a grin
We waded across a brackish stream
towards mountains
of barnacles and bare roots
larger than our bodies
covered in dirt and a salty glaze
fully exposed to the raw sea air
Warmth returns
to the land
to my toes, legs and hands
and to the way we speak, in our ups and downs
Warmth returns to the frozen ground
Warm breezes pass between us
reminding us of all the reasons
to even try
to stay alive
and stay up late to stare at the night sky
Reminding us: it will soon be July!
Spring is wild
like the eyes of a child
Dark and bright
like a starry, starry night
Lit from behind like a high flying kite
Winking and waving at the warm sun
Glowing with hope for the days to come
Breezes move twisted trees
and dried up leaves teeter on the tips of stripped branches
Their quick dances end when their stems are ripped
and the leaves are whipped into misty air
leaving the branches bare
Birds break pods of plants long gone
interrupting each other with chatter and song
On stormy days we braved the rain
to venture through valleys of sunken grades
Through fields of fog on level planes
To places where puddles struggle to drain
and colors fade
Greens into brown and yellows to grey
In flannel we marched like a cheerful parade
Seeking shelter in places that normally shade
Feeling cozy, though frozen, under tree or in cave
In a dank, dark place along our route
we happened upon the valuable truth
that in order to live we must put on our boots
and break from places we’re warm and dry,
but barely alive
and missing a misting so sweet I could cry
My eyes made out your familiar frame
through the mist and haze of the thickening rain
I called out your name and my voice made its way
through the drops
to your ears
and put a smile on your face
We walked down the street with our jackets unzipped
thinking nothing could beat how we look when we’re wet
like we’re covered in sweat
Stopping to tease under soaked cedar tree
she sprinkled our heads encouragingly
And again on a corner with diverse company
Reds, yellows, purples and greens
Every color of leaf you could name
We made it a game, then went on our way
The burnished blue railing – a balancing beam!
You swore I would slip
so held tight to my hips and
I couldn’t resist proving your guess
by toppling over and into your chest
On that day I had no other way
than the words you will find at the end of this page
to give thanks for an outing so blissfully gay
Bless this wet weather
and bless all the people
who hide in their houses
who cower from showers
and give us this city today!
Elsa Curtis | I like to write 