Monday
by Lynn Copeland See angel it's all about perspective.
What you see, what I see.
Our arms curling like vines around the trunks of eachother.
You, thinking the branches can hold themselves up, deadwood heavy.
Me, wishing you would tangle your fingers in my hair,
And bloom like crazy.This morning when I woke,
The air was warm between us,
Like spring.
Yawning, I thought of sap, green leaves;
The smell of it.
The way it tastes like the sea,
The soil.