This Side and That

moli

There’s a light on across the tracks.
Across the railroad tracks that lead into town.
On this side, there is me.
On that side, there is who?

There’s a light on across the tracks,
It peeks through the bare branches
Like a child, like a mouse,
Trying to touch my nose.

There’s a light on across the tracks.
I imagine who turned it on, who will turn it off.
On this side, it was the mother.
On that side, it was the child.

There’s a light on across the tracks.
I do not know who turned it on-I wish I could.
Wish I could say hello, say good night,
Shake her hand, or touch his hair.

There’s a light on across the tracks.
But perhaps I wasn’t meant to know.
On that side, she has dreams, he has love;
On this side, that knowledge must be enough.

There’s a light on across the tracks.
I would fight for them if they needed. I would.
On this side, I am given things.
On that side, they are not.

There’s a light on across the tracks.
If an evil someone tried to turn off that light before they wanted,
I would cross the tracks.
I would help them. Because I would want help.

There’s a light on across the tracks.
It seems the difference between me and that evil someone
Is the wondering. I wonder about them, but they don’t wonder.
Is the caring. I care about them, but they don’t care.

There’s a light on across the tracks.
But my eyes are full and heavy from a day’s seeing.
On this side, I am tired.
To that side, I say with wonder and care: good night.

The Leaving

sporacio-cherry-fall-2007

It is the sun’s last three heartbeats of love that makes the leaves blush.

A heart beats once …
A season’s worth of passion poured upon the leaves,
The crimson glow betraying the sun’s adoration.
Fingered shafts of light whisper over the crinkled edges,
Warming the green, turning jealousy to blushing love.

A heart beats twice …
Her waist dips below the limiting circle and she grips harder,
Begging to stay longer, grasping at the tops of her trees.
Her heart sears—fierce, simmering, direct—
Concentrating all she did not say, could not say in a single moment.

A heart beats thrice …
Sinking inevitably, her eyes dispatch her last ounce of ardor
Upon every arboreal cell alive to receive it.
The last shining tendril extinguishes in a burst,
Content for an evening, knowing the world has seen her love,

Surrendering her earth in winter to the moon.