The World Wakes Up

          So we stop at the side of the road, and there is the
largest tree and a long kiss with the hazard lights flashing.
          Everything is the beginning of something. A sycamore
seed, a windshield fogging up. The first fist of rain pounding
down.
          Come closer. Let's get our arms around each other and
count all the bones we can. Between us, we have rungs for a
ladder leading into the leaves and fingers left over for climbing.
Two tongues to perch there and sing while the world wakes up.
          What will we miss of our skin and gristle? Our
disengaged hearts.
          When you're finally no one, what else do you do but
call out your name?

Copyright © 2007 Andrew Michael Roberts All rights reserved
from Asheville Poetry Review
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission