birth and death of a mimosa tree

It’s the seed he planted
demanding attention
a vantage point mentioned
by one who’s a friend
yet I still can’t tell the end from the in
the beginning
was sinning
yet now we’re alive
bending and mending
each other’s insides
Finding a stride over gravel and grass
separating our pasts
as we forge new ground
rolling around
down hills alone
searching for home
between two oak trees
back and forth swinging
with your friends all singing
ancient Egyptian blues
encrypting clues
for me to find
my sallow green light
approaching the night
inside my mind
with a pocket knife
to saw off the time
that it took
to think something up
that could sizzle
and cook
mixed up in the rhyme
at the glances I steal
your rod and your reel
playing the flip game in my rear-view-mirror
the far side of the bridge
getting nearer
and clearer
queer somehow
since hours before
it played the score
of a 50’s musical
unusual how
the stars became snow
dashing to and fro
inside their globe
falling down
celestial glow
and the glint in your eyes
like you know something
when you blow, tingling up
an explosion
erosion of walls
through sleeping bag stalls
with kisses and misses
synapses glimpsing
our words filling lapses
perhaps patching holes
in our sew back together souls
Explaining how I feel whole
when I come.
I know then you’re not numb
to the sense
of wonder I get
when I speak words
I finally comprehend
so lend me a piece of your notebook paper
while I enjoy the taste
your lips make
mixed with stream water
Don’t bother with understanding
the demanding
way my mind works.
The quirks all come from the peace I can’t find
so wind me up in this blanket of being
warming me
freeing me
until I am seeing that seed unsprout
until I’m tearing it out
defeating my doubt without words.