fir

Why is it you?

You remind me of all the earth I've felt, I've seen, I've breathed in:
Tallgrass whispering against my calves
Sagebrush omnipresent, all year
Dappled sunlight in the forest
Clear river view
The way my frame feels different walking over years-old unpaved dirt paths
Olympics from my living room window in the sunrise light

You are the sound of bubbling strums on a vintage non-reversed Gibson Firebird
The creak in every single floorboard in this apartment
and every old floorboard in my old house
Steel strings
A hum in my throat behind locked lips

Honeycomb-to-honey

Spring, summer, fall

Moonlight like cream-on-crackers

Shade in July

Wisteria catching June sunset

You could hold me in your arms with each song sent.

I could feel safe with you;

I could feel

home

with you.

You are a safe distance,

because I already know how this would end,

and I know it will never begin.

All the middle is in my imagination, safe,

never printed. Unpublished.