Untarnished

Shriveled muscadines too long on the vine,

the juicy delight wasted.

Sitting on the edge of brokenness, 

where weeping willow caresses the river.

On the ripples of this tenderness,

Rhodendrum petals succum to the rapids.

Flowing water washes away tree number 28,

and all the pleasure of my last mistake.

Searing cold on hot skin,

I welcome the rain drops.

Shivering and drenched,

I take cover under the tree where I fell in the mud the day you took my picture-

Right here.

Is nothing untarnished?

The sun, the stars, the moon

The sound of wind through my beloved trees

Blossom and bloom

All remind me that I called you in on raindrops.

But, you could not love me like rain.