Amy is wearing my sweater
she pinched it on wednesday
but i wont say.
Amy is wearing my coat
she stole it on the weekend
but she’s my friend
Curious,
i followed her to the end of the road where mud would splash in puddles and the rain left scar marks on earth and that street we would cross as kids and that old tractor nobody uses and the tree stump under the orange tree and the grove of trees where it gets thicker-
and the grove that suddenly has five types fruits and three types greens and lemons and apples and then turns corn fields grape vines pine trees oak ,burl, in a whirl, and there-
is the tallest tree in the world,
and five hundred coats are lying there,
and a hundred sweaters
and i swear
she kneels down and puts mine on the branch
and i see this head peep out
and then five hundred kids and a hundred adults
are waiting for their share
that amy’s going getting beds
and she can get them there.
and i run back home pass the whirl and the burl and the oak and pine and the grape vines corn fields apples lemons greens and fruits-
and i pass the trees and i pass the stump and the tractor, street and scars on earth to the end of the road where the mud splashes puddles and makes for chocolate rain
and i heaved and sighed and realized
ill never wear my clothes again
and i know the reason why.
Copyright 2013 Golden Star Poetry
Golden Star Poetry 