late morning

underneath a big green tree

there is you

and there is me

the things we haven't done

fall between us

with the leaves

regrets

and dreams

soft now

between

our feet

they draw the sting

from the fact that I was born

and you must die

now. here. there is only you

and there is only me.

the economy

of our words

is the joy of us

as we sit

underneath

a big

green

tree