Seven

a poem about growing up

Seven

Some days I would like
gestures of compassion
days soak up wine, soft jasmine
sifting through the door

The wind sleeps in
and rain comes in a scattered rage
I would like her to notice me
But honey is sweeter

You're gonna run babe
like you have never been in love
the sun will torment you darling,
But one day you will be some one

Each morning turns in the seven day cycle
I am learning to write memories in ashes
leftover from a night sleepy smoking
thinking of tomorrow when you forget me

The day will be wrapped in glory
The whitest shimmer of clean and gone
But the passageways are always blaming me
On the progress of our nothings

Maybe then they will stop laughing
As they walk away
And just for a moment
I'll be seven, seven and beautiful
Just maybe...

Author's Note

I hope you enjoy!