two poems

Nov 2nd

Is nothing sacred?

And where, if not in this place

Do bared feet tread holy ground?

No one is afraid not to hear

"Remove your sandals, for the ground on which you stand is holy ground."

Is there so little ground

that so few must unlace their boots?

Or is it now, when we must wash each other's feet,

That the ground on which we stand is holy?

Nov 3rd - Nov 9th

The leaves are falling off of the trees

and

we spend our idle hours (of which there are few)

holding hands, together in the reading glen

in the place where

I first said that I kinda liked you

and

you told me I had an adorable face

and

I told you that I thought you were beautiful

and you told me to shut up

but your eyes shone like wet tortoise shells.

That was back when we were seventeen

and

we were still scared of saying "I love you"

well

I'm still scared because you may think I'm nice

but I'm aware of my own volatility

so

for now, we'll satisfy ourselves with looks of

mutually held but un-communicated feeling.

But you better watch yourself girl, because one of these days

I will probably get down on one knee

and

ask you a yes or no question

I'm telling you this now so that when that day comes

you won't be too surprised

you won't be flustered

and you'll have thought of an answer

and you'll say "Yes."