The Battle Of Trees
A night, spent in the agony of being.
by Amberlee Carter
The first to wake,
first to walk: cocked eyed and fractured soul-
Morning comes before sunrise can wake the world.
Faceless sky open wide.
tic toc, tic toc-
The nervous voice
echoes in the hollow of my chest,
against the cobble stone upon which my mind never rests-
I've been thinking, playing god-
fantasizing a world where death and life (and the other death)
co-exist in harmony.
Drink coffee to awaken the senses,
Drain the sun of it's shine-
Place flowered memories of youth in my hair, for beauty.
When one has time, one is never alone.
I speak to the reaper, the memoir of one
who's sewn this row before-
His final wish:
one honest kiss.
Then I await the night to arrest, eternal still-
writing poetry of a faceless sky and thinking of the trees,
how they love the spring.
Mind pauses, a solitary thought:
our season in this walk is not unlike theirs,
we spend so much time in a twilight daze,
praying for a warmth we can grow towards.