Mother's Day
I leave a bowl of cat food
behind the house
a dozen roses
go to visit her mother
all by themselves
in the garage
rusted red wagon
next to an old Mustang
and a dozen promises
I left on hooks
I ask a tree
if he remembers when
I was twelve years old
(and he shows me
the scar)
sunlight through crystals
rainbows move in formation
across my skin
forty days and nights
since I saw you last
and the rain won't stop
empty vase
the scent of roses
from the sink
middle of the day
Sandman with nothing to do
picking wildflowers
soaking-wet petunias
watching
the rainbow fade
stupid moon
so damn big and bright
when he's not here..
the kisses
we planted behind the house --
wildflowers
he told her
about the desert
(she listened
like the sound
of the sea)
