endings

Some nights in the bow of the lilac tree
my love on the wind-breath comes to me
he asks, why is the world so round and so wide,
marred by the voices and scarred by the tide
and scarred by the pull and the grin of the moon
and the fanciful dance of a dish and a spoon.
He sings me a poem of a traffic light
and the moon and the star-sky lost in its night.

Some nights in the bow of the lilac tree,
a dance in a party dress comes to me
it asks, why are their arms so loose and so tied
and why won't the bridegroom dance with the bride
and why are there lyrics ground into the mud
and why won't the microphones spell the word love
and why don't the girls in the lilac trees
go scream to their song and make it change key.

Some nights in the bow of the lilac tree,
the first of a snowstorm comes to me
with words of betrayal laced in its tongue
with kisses in gardens that rip things undone.
Why do the nightmares live in the roofs,
why do the dead leaves live in the truths.
Why are there poems to the young and the old
and none to the touch and the eyes of the cold.

Some nights in the bow of the lilac tree,
no person, no person comes to me.
Tell me why the newspapers cry,
tell me where all the footsteps lie.
Why does the end of the sky melt away,
carrying hours and carrying days.
And the wind whips the leaves and the limbs and they bend
and no one explains when love stories end.

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