F.B.

In the corner of the barren winter back yard
I sit, pebbles hard beneath my clean left foot
The leaves get pushed through the air,
Sounding like cards in the spokes of a bicycle
(the plain wooden clothespins scraping the rear forks paint)
The detritus of plant life has blown beneath the cheap concrete
Of a Japanese lantern I placed by the small tree
To please me, covering the rocks and rotting as such things do.

The sun warms my growing hair;  I’ve been home…
Long enough to not look like a convict
Long enough to know the ways of my relationship
Long enough to fatally shank my bank account
Long enough to actually miss the road
Long enough.

In the corner of my barren winter back yard
I could tell you of fear, self loathing and self doubt
Of the joy of spending life with another who
Loves and prods, supports and frustrates
Who doesn’t know what to do when part of me goes
Into the corner of my other barren winter back yard
The one where nothing grows, no birds fly or sing
Where the sun never shines…

So today I’m glad that I’m in this other corner
No more or less real than the other
Except even now in the down season
This one shares life and love and hope
And a sun to see
All these words from heart to page.