Home in the Trees

a song in the key of G

forces of nature that harbor her bright
come in to dance for this Muse's delight
motions engraving in soft lumber bands
fortunes remaining inside of her hands

now i sleep on her once bended knees
and she makes up our home in the trees

a train from Chicago through fields blooming green
bringing the night glow and red back to me
dreaming of farmlands—a golden wheat bed
smooth as my shoulder where she rests her head

and i think of her kissing the breeze
as she climbs to our home in the trees

drive home down M-10, she smiles in the lanes
basking in glories of our grayscale plains
raise up our glass to whatever we are—
more than the glances we made at the bar

now her hands are a beacon for me
while her arms take me home to the trees

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