the first part:
when words fail me I will climb a tree
and speak with the other people who have no words.
we'll forget about
the angry words &
the tired words,
backs to bark,
sitting with Orion.
between stars our fingers dangle, sticky from the
peaches we'll eat before bed
and thats when you and I
--if you've lost your words too--
will just listen to each other for hours until we wake up.
next part:
Laughter is rain
and you wash me away in its flood
swept down to the coast and the Oregon pines
to the taste of sap and sand calling me
out to your ocean
I am on the cliffs above an orange crescent moon, watching its reflection on your waves
and all of that while I am still studying for geology.
I'd like to find you among the rocks and wonders of this book but
writing helps my heart see you better
(perhaps its daily dose of minerals?)
so that I can keep studying, here in this chair in the Eyring center.
