Suburban Muse

I lose you

in the rain,

freckles

connecting

in wet dot puzzles,

and clothes

soaking,

tame thing

that you were,

locked in fabric

and worry,

turning fey

This

is the you

I spot in the woods,

wild Drus slinking

beneath paper skin,

peelings from

his favorite tree

just enough

to sustain him

until his next

dance.

Maybe

an hour past

we sat placid

at a dinner table,

slipping plates

from one to the other,

fork clutched

in perfect slant

across your slender

fingers,

but

here

in the thick air

I see the roots

curling from them,

vines tangled

in the bark brown

silk

of crazed curls

and soil

begging

for the blessing

of your light feet.

Your forest

is nowhere near,

bare toes

instead edging a manicured

lawn,

but I swear

in the hazel

of your wide eyes,

I can only see

new leaves

and the hot

static

of summer storms