The Only Love

The only love I’ve ever known
is the love I appreciate the least.

What a selfish fool I am
to disregard the touch
of my mother’s fingers
as they stroked my back.

Who’s arms would I slump
into if not those of my
dearest friends who
are the harbor in the storm?

I am a flier on the wind.
I am the wave against the rock.
I am the kisses on the moon.
I am the frog under a spell.
I am the oak carved with maps.
I am the ink and the stamp.
I am every open window and
I’ve been right here all along.

The echoes of my voice slide
into the ranks of the stars.
Even they know my heart,
and what more of a boon can I ask?

I will forget everything I know about love.
I will free my eyes from the red roses.

I’m sure when I stop gazing at the
willow tree’s boughs I’ll realize
that the person I desire the most
has been beneath the canopy all along.