All that we can be remains lost in the forest,
lingers among quivering pine trees,
wild mushrooms, moss-covered stones.

In the city, something wild
beats beneath my chest, wings
flapping   it is breathing. My lover can’t tame it
so I came to you.

Your cerulean eyes dishevel me
I forget my name, forget who I am
in this city I used to love.
Suddenly neon lights blur, hot pavement
becomes soil, crickets and loons drown
out crackling street lamps.

Tomorrow I’ll begin my journey,
but I know I’ll never find you.
You who forget to answer your phone
for weeks, hate traffic and streets crowded
with lonely people.

Where do the pine trees break?
Where can I see sunlight
streaming down on you?

When can I stumble towards you
my legs scratched and bloody
from wild roses and weeds?

—Candice G. Ball