She Had Power

I was floating in a dream.
My ears were the branches,
and the birds gathered to perch.
I looked over the forest, and she
was there. She held the moon
with her eyes, while I
held the ground with my feet.

Her smile was a trigger.
I grew ten stories then,
but I grew prostrate,
for my trunk was set sideways.
I felt she kissed me,
but when magnetic darkness snatched her,
and I awoke to the bare white ceiling
above my bed, the fluttering
was merely a bluejay, who,
having made a nest in my hair,
stood over my face, smelling food
in my mouth.

"Tweet tweet?" it asked,
and cocked its head to the left.

See How You Peer

Here, senior, bend,
for your spine is weak,
your heart has lost weight
and you cannot pretend.

Your words are old,
the meanings grow sallow,
your shorelines grow sandy,
your path's bronzed where once gold.

But you say, NO, here,
my shallow pool bleak
does still carry, reflecting your freight,
and ah, see how you peer.