Dying Fields Of Green
October 6th 2008 22:08
My sister’s eyes have lost their spark
the flint of life that once ignited
lights that burnt so bright
has worn away
Death’s glint shines
in eyes that cast a thousand looks my way
glances
understood through intuition
only born of brotherhood
Are only siblings free to roam back yards
beyond the family tree?
As cordial kids, we both could walk for hours on lime-
stone roads, without a word
The sight of Granny Hardy tredlying her bike
would strike us
like a lightning bolt, and
crack our sides in two
In a flash
we’d turn
and face each other
like two smiling mirrors
and do the knee-slap dance
Those days are way behind me now
yet always at the forefront of my mind
Beyond the tears on summer grass
strangling winter graves
and sad departures from home towns
life pushes on and up
towards its wilting end
In my new town and house
that’s hardly home
I could meet a woman
or maybe even two
We might press skin-on-skin
and I might find myself within
an exchange of fluids, high and low
But our younger years run parallel
and always will
We might see eye-to-eye
now and again
from time-to-time
but within the specks of yellow
within the pools of many colours green
inherited, or just passed on
I’d find a relative or two
I’d never met
or ever even ever spoken to
not near the room for me
my sister’s dying fields of green contained
Nature makes me want to scream
why do all the flowers have to die?
I need a mediator on the other side
or transport to that place
where tears are all wiped dry
and truth replaces lies
Who will laugh with me now?
and who will share my smile in advance?
When life’s great feather-duster brushes my funny bone
I turn
expect to see
those eyes
but the swoosh of quills
brings on a chill
that leaves me
cold and miserable
I have to drag the sparkle from my memory
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