a word in private

The curve of the earth
The bending of perception on a high
Every time she does
She leaves on a plane
And ive tried
To train myself
This time
Im going to climb a tree
And lie in wait
Patiently
For the spring to return
With her to my doorsteps
And without her this dry season
Id take joy and succour
At least from the dried twigs and leaves
If not from the blossoming that comes with rain
If ive survived desolation in thinking of a garden of dreams
Then lovelessness at least hasn’t gone in vain