Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Sitting On A Patch Of Grass

Sitting On A Patch Of Grass 

Come, sit awhile, On this patch of grass, 
This corner of the earth, That is ours alone, 
Till we go our separate ways. 
 Let me rest in your arms, In my mouth a blade of grass, 
Your hair a curtain Sheltering me from the world, 
Your fingers easing the frowns That burrow deeper in my forehead With each passing day. 

Let us not remember, The lengthening shadows in my father's face, 
My mother's pinched and wrinkled skin, 
The worries that like an insidious worm Are eroding their life away, 
My poetry collection that I sold To apply for the last job inteview. 
 Let us also try and forget That your father no longer speaks to you, 
Your sister looks at you with accusing eyes, 
Your mother called you a whore last night, That you are now a stranger in your home, 
Gray strands in your hair no longer a rarity, 
That you will be thirty in a month's time. 
 There will be time enough to remember, 
Once evening dies and we part our ways, 
Instead, let us, for now, 
Look into each other's eyes and be content That the grass below is green still, 
The sky above still daylight blue, 
That the love that I see in your eyes,
 And the dreams that you see in mine, Are not an illusion just yet.


 Photo: Nejro