If I don’t know the person you are and you don’t know the person I am
If leaves from branches fall between us
At our feet,
In the yard built for both of us, but always our constant battleground
Then how were we suppose to meet
In any other circumstance?
In spring mornings we’d go out to the Tough Grounds
With fists of mud we’d pound
each other
Not knowing why we dunked each other,
not knowing why we cursed our fathers
yet defended them from one another.
Instead of summer brunches
We fired BBs in bunches.
Remember when you caught that one
In your hand
in your hand in front of your eye
and we both began to cry?
We tasted that autumnal crisp
and if only leaves could have cut your wrists
I would have been the victor,
would have been the king
but like all small things It would have shamed me
with the blame.
It never snowed in winter, we never got that delight
And instead we capered around in the mud
With our faces
And toes
contracting the cold like
parasites.
Then the spring came again.
And you were not my enemy.
Instead your hair was golden,
Your lips an interest to me.
I knew who were then,
and I think you knew me to.
If you know the person I am and I know the person you are
and if leaves from branches fall between us
We can make this home forever.
Winter Station 