Taking a tender shoot
made up of wadded seed
and affection there was no room for,
they planted an idea
and created a living monolith
full of tortured whispers of want-
it was not a place of peace
but of comfort and intimate color
lighting up the night
like counting sums that turn out right
or a hand settling in another
just right
when there’s nowhere else to turn.
They called it Spellbound
and laughed at anyone who thought it a trick
because only people can be fools,
not the heart.

Leaving the glade
with its lush undergrowth and quiet air
like an embrace
is like stepping away from
a lover’s arms for the last time,
knowing it’s not your place
but was a lovely respite
you would have fought to linger in
awhile longer.

Skewered and opened like an umbrella,
in full spin and dangerous
to look at with the naked eye,
he took to skyscrapers
with his special suction shoes
to prove there was nowhere
he couldn’t dance.

Some machinery became stuck
in the fields
in the mud
in the muck
yet the trees grew and birds flew

it did seem we were to be swallowed
like the earth was in a hurry
to reclaim
its dark wood and delicate leaves
so tender-light
and stronger than us.