Tuesday, May 25, 2010

This Mountain Kills People

When I was eleven, it occurred to me
That Melissa in math class
Could in fact
Be the answer to all my problems
Her flowing hair and subtle smiles
Led my awkward mind
To believe in what?
Tentatively, we'll call it love

Then, at fifteen
There was Melanie
More than I could bear
She had me counting sheep
While the streetlights played shadow games
Through my bedroom window
Mixing Pearl Jam and Live
And all I wanted, was her soft hand in mine

Twenty gave me Kristin
But our town was too small
For expanding ambitions
And not even her eyes could see
That nothing really changes until we do
Those familiar afternoons
We passed without a word
Too full of the future

These I can see, plus a hundred more
And each is kept close
Defending their legacies from Time, that ancient thief
Of all that guides and nurtures the soul
The thief of love
So whether fresh and fragrant
Or set in stone
I'll keep them all, and continue home

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