Over in New Hampshire

October 19, 2009

I read the rays of the sun like a polygraph

I read the grin lines on your face like Braille

I read the octaves of your laugh like the chorus in a song

I tell of the time when I first saw your eyes

It always ends up sounding like a fishing tale

Tear off the corners of the earth and fold them closer together

Watch the early signs of winter like a pot of boiling water

It parades the sky even as you stand and stare out the window

I know your view would trump this sorry attempt

The snow over here loses spark as it has farther to fall

The mountains there feed the snow with beauty

And they lift it above the heavens for everyone to see

Even if they didn't, I'd imagine it forever

Just for an excuse to be there with you; I need a good one