roses over east, Wind (pt. 1)

The constant battle in the branches above

The green waves like an ocean at my feet

Walking the same path

The wind here is different

The crystals are dry

They come and go as they please.

My friends say there are flowers on the East side

It’s too cold to adventure here

Occasionally the maintenance clean the garden out front

The bushes can hide the biggest of things

Rocks and water I see

But no rush like we saw summertime

Stories of laughter fill the halls on Monday

I’ve tried to listen.

The people here are fun, you’ll love them

Minds have a crazy way of thinking in the distance

The kind that lifts us up to see over there

It glows still, in the light: beautiful.

The shine of the silver and yellow

It hides when the sun retreats

And while the wind blows through the clear

I sit and wait.

I look to the East—

The roses are blooming

The orange ones made a comeback this year

It was our last chance.

We marched to the gardens where they all jumped through

I turned and walked West

I think I’m getting used to the wind here