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YOU by Charles Bane Jr

February 21, 2011

YOU

I came upon you

when I was a child

and kept the memory

close, through every

feverish year.  My hair

was silk from corn; yours,

black as the birds upon the snow

I fed the winter long. I opened books

at night and looked at barest

trees and wished for Spring. I watched

for leaves birthing like the stars. I made

poems, and saved the lights I found

waiting in my marrow. One day I would tell

you of the music I heard between its honey-

combs and followed til words rested

on a page. You would understand. You

would hold the glass and pour my amber

work until it filled you to a brim.

You would say, this flames the trees

and you are the harvester of my soul.

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