your voice danced in my mouth
while your painted nails softly scratched
up under my pink silk blouse
as we lay beneath green-leaf summer sycamore trees
only opposites are allowed to attract here
and we were the same
the sky turned to the color of pearl,
formed by an irritation
now I'm only aware of winter in the dark
all the trees have been stripped naked
by autumn's raping hand, but our sycamores
whose leaves refuse to let go
in weather as cold as a corpse
although they're brown and curling in
as if trying to protect themselves
so brittle they'd crumble to dust if touched
you screamed, "RUN"!
I ran
into a sudden night
darkening between blinks of my eyes
now I hurry where only shadows of hands
reach out hoping to grasp each other
under s no-star sky
midnight wears a moonstone brooch
but it is cracked, split by a sharp black cloud
a finger pointing final accusation
boy's faces float behind me
enraged for reasons only they know
or don't know
stones seeking blood in their fists
through suffocating mist
maybe it's heaven's sweat falling
or hell's hot breath rising
I know no path to follow
I know no destiny, no destination
I only know I left you there
and none of the hands are yours
reaching out for me
somewhere I hear chanting, drums
so distant they must be across a sea
© Cathy Mccormick