Friday, August 22, 2008


They ate your tomatoes without you
One last gift you left us
They were good (the tomatoes)
But not as good as the look on your face
When you ate your tomatoes
(No one even scolded me for not liking tomatoes)

Did you see us at the fire rock?
Did you notice the bear sleeping behind us?
Which we ignored, lost in memories
Of that last fire you made
(The cinders were still there)
I bet you laughed at the face she made when
She saw him there (the bear)

I guess we still have some things
Left to figure out
Like how to focus
You would have noticed
That we packed seventeen bags of chips
(And no salad)

Your mountains looked the same
Not like us
I think we were weathered more
In those last few weeks
(One hundred million years of rains, snows, winds, droughts, floods
All in 27 months)
Than they have ever been (the mountains)

We left a part of you there
(Just like you wanted)
Where you could take your rest from living
(Just like every year)
Warmed by the morning sun