Randall Potts

The Trouble with You

 

Moss, Grass crackle in hand.
Leaf, Root, Flower, Fruit, orders Garden.
"The trouble with you," she says—
& I'm a ladder left leaning on a Tree.

Leaf, Root, Flower, Fruit, orders Garden.
Frost puts to slumber, sleep...
& I'm a ladder left leaning on a Tree.
Put on some Music & we'll pretend

Frost puts to slumber, sleep...
Snow Berry stars in an empty Wood.
Put on some Music & we'll pretend
Blood-stained box the Turkey rode in.

Snow Berry stars in an empty Wood.
I can't look you in the eye, just how we are
Blood-stained box the Turkey rode in.
Nothing older or more terrible—

I can't look you in the eye, just how we are
Last Leaves, yellow mobiles, smile, smile
Nothing older or more terrible—
Put on some Music & we'll pretend—

Last Leaves, yellow mobiles, smile, smile
Moss & Grass crackle in hand.
Put on some Music & we'll pretend—
"The trouble with you," she says—