When friends turn
To lovers turn
To friends something
Happens something deepens
Like the seasons
One moves from
One to the
Next not without
Discomfort does a
Bud not love
Being a bud
Then a leaf
Full of life
And beauty did
It ever think
That it would
Be the carpet
Upon which the
Snow falls being
Nothing more than
A memory when
Friends turn to
Lovers to friends
They understand that
For a brief season
They were one
Thing and now
Another keeping their
Pace with time
And awakened they
Did past lovers
Of mine like
Hatchlings on some
Far off branch
Chirping and cackling
Their good mornings
It made my
Heart sing like
A harpsichord playing
A light minuet
As I sipped
The champagne of
This glorious morn
It came then
Something warm and
Bright something from
The East a
Surprise while hoped
For the sunrise
Of your words
To me crackling
Like eggs frying
Like gleeful children
Waving at parents
Two simply simple
Words good morning
Why oh why
When the message
That I await
Comes my heart
Bleeds
Why do I
Pound
These nails into
My hands why
Do I suffer
So
I let you
Go so why
Why oh why
Do you come
Back
Except to remind
Me of what
I’m missing and
What
What what what
You left behind
We’re done aren’t
We done done
Take your nails
And hammers and
Go on home
And this morning
As I enjoyed
My coffee the
Strangest spider kept
Dancing across thigh
Hand and finger
I swatted plucked
And pinged it
Off me until
I realized that
It was you
Visiting me in
Your sleep reminding
Me with your
Little dance that
You’re still here
HARLAN DIDRICKSON 