The Birch in an Indicator of Something Heavy

The birch creates a natural arch as the ice weighs heavy on it

A spring as capricious as a sodden summer moment

Flash-forward, and I'm a child picking clovers, hoping for fours

Waiting at the dinner table for porkchops and ‘taters

My mother plays with my brother just beyond the door, and I'm simple enough for innocence

Warm air 

When it lives in the brain, it's always warm, and I’d like to know that place sometime

That place that we remember with 

A cure is what a moment is 

I found myself again after a few lives passed 

Worn and incubated, self-isolated to Texas

I’d never met him before

And so naturally I met him pissing on the shoulder of an old road 

While bogged and muddled music rolled through the speakers 

With stars all around us 

Lighting the curvature of a whole field, something like middle earth

Underneath them, we embrace at once, untuned and matured 

Pure and trying to enter where I cannot be endorsed

We joined, and that child I was grew into my now unhumored heart

Twenty-five must be the year of curiousity and dreams of when we were pure 

In hell, there's the idea of a heaven

And in fortune, there's a belt branded with dates and names

Connemara turned me human again 

Those mountains led to iceland 

And the ocean between it is only the space we dont have time to fill in

Ashy rain sprinkled through my view of something certain

And I wonder how I could’ve known anything before 

Like syrup on pancakes

You’ve now tasted the side in which green balances out the sun

I watched faces move slowly by

Casting their shadows on rocks running miles wide

We knew a lot more when we weren't cajoled through the network we hide behind, smiling eyes

I’ll take my statement with my hands through the pillory with a view of the symphony 

Because I can't enjoy it firmly if not casually 

I will live for now where it is green

So long as boredom doesn't catch up with me

As it tends to do so easily

Until I find myself again pissing up the lava flow at the base of a volcano 

And I’ll think to myself, he must know something

He must live with the colors I hadn't even yet imagined