The Morning After Spring
Paul Hedrick
As we stand here
The rain is filtered by your purple hair
It's crying down across your face
Attempting to distract from your hazel flame
I can't help but wonder how I missed it
Why I never saw it before
I don't know what it was you saw
Cause I'm worth nothing at all
Aside from the accruing interest in the poor
From your investment in me I am something
As the ground leaches slowly
From the air above your violet hue
I realize in metaphor and actuality
The dirt has no room to
Rebuke or reprove
Rebuke or reprove
Rebuke or reprove
I count the eyelets in my shoes
In an attempt to recapture
My breath that you hold ransom