And I’m left on the heels
of that summer girl from summers ago
plunging through the trees along
the canyon rim — hunting pazuzu
in the eyes of stragglers down below
the wanderers and families with children
and their long dogs none the wiser
She was all the most urgent hides
the great hall behind the thorny thicket
the low limbed trees fat with shadow
the middle deck and its cold pool
spilling savage on the rocks below
She drank from these and once
while basked on a high outcrop
Searing in the noon
we almost kissed almost
before hurling ourselves
into the woods thundered
with laughter and the birds
shrieked up from the trees
telling tales as some birds do
Image: Photo by Mason Mulcahy on Unsplash
Sweet and Bitter Greens 