Tuesday, December 4, 2007

I said I'd see you in Savannah


I said

I'd see you in Savannah

at sometime in the spring.

Down amidst the Spanish moss

I'd tell you everything:


family recipes and prayers,

coordinates and passwords,

secrets I've been saving up

for our forever afters.


But

if the chill still hugs the ground,

if, for a time, spring's shelved,

meet me in cold Canada,

my secrets to myself.


2 comments:

Unknown said...

What hell's wrong with Canada, eh?

blessure said...

Nothing's wrong with it. It's just dang cold up 'ere in Cananda, ain't it?