Book #2

Rhododendron Daydreams

Under the shade of some lovely rhododendron.
It's probably a good foot taller than me now.
We lay at the edge of a forest.
Birches. Oaks. Firs. Maples.
Maybe some ferns, a couple of bushes.
Some vines of whatever or some other.

The sun is rising and shining -
Onto a field of silver-and-green grasses;
Through a thicket of saplings;
Even down through the rhododendron,
Onto me
Or where I lay
Or where there is a stone
With my name engraved on it
And yesterday's date
And thirty-four years before
Or some thirty-four-and-seven-months
And maybe some nice little quote
To remind me
That I will never be alone again.

And a girl,
Here she comes now,
Treading through the field,
Although she whispers, "meadow",
Avoiding the frozen flowers
As though her gentle touch may shatter them,
Making her way to the rhododendron,
Then kneeling to my height,
Or the height of my stone,
And making this face
That I can't quite place.

It's something like grief
And guilt
And regret
And loneliness
All wrapped into one.

And then she smiles.

She speaks.
"The autumn's been cruel, hasn't it?
I know you said this would happen,
But I could never quite believe you.
You were never so happy, never very happy.
But then you saw this meadow.
You were... Satisfied.
You knew.
I think, maybe subconsciously, I knew that you knew.
I think I was ready to let you go.
I think you were ready to go.
The world is cruel.
Twenty or so years ago, you figured that out.
You were so young.
I wish I had known you then.
Maybe I could've loved you longer.
Maybe I could've held you for another day.
Slept next to you another night.
Gave you another flower from nowhere special.
Gave you another kiss from somewhere very special.
Somewhere that was yours.
You never knew.
But...
And, I mean,
I don't know if you're even listening."

I am.

"I don't know if you can even hear me..."

I do. I do. I do, I do, I do.
I do, I do I doIdoIdo.
I do.

"I think I'm... No.. I...
I honestly don't know.
I don't know if I'm handling this better or worse than I thought I would.
I don't know much any more.
I think you might've been right when you said not to get attached to you"
What?
"But I think getting attached to you was the best decision of my life.
I think we would both be in some mediocre mass grave,
Or cemetery or whatever,
If I hadn't gotten attached to you.
Neither of us would've survived.
The world's still falling to pieces, turning to shit.
We never did enough as humans to fix the shit our parents did.
Maybe ancestors would fit better, but it doesn't really matter.
They didn't give us enough to fix with, and they gave us too much to fix.
I know you loved talking about that."

She pauses for a second, and I stay quiet.

"I would hug you if I could, but..."

I feel like laughing and move towards her.

Closer.

Closer.
Closer, closer closerclosercloser.

We're together.

She laughs.

I feel her laughing in me.
I can feel her chest jumping as if it were my own.

"We'll always be together anyways."

The new winter sun is suddenly warm.

Is it morning now?

"It's morning now, I guess.
Maybe I should get going."

Please don't go.
It's different without you.

"I'm sorry I couldn't stay longer.
They'll be looking for me by midday.
But don't worry, I'll be safe.
I'll find somewhere calm, and I'll finish our mission.
Then I'll join you.
Soon.
I promise."

She gets up, but not before kissing my forehead,
Or what I would assume she means,
Because she always kisses-
She always kissed my forehead,
But I'm a stone now.
A stone,
Under a rhododendron
That's maybe a foot taller than me now,
Or taller than I used to be, I guess,
With a few engravings on it.

She crosses into the forest,
And looks back at the rhododendron.
She sighs,
And whispers,
"My sunshine.
I'll always find you here when I need you."

And she was gone.

The winter sun is still warm,
But now it isn't as bright.

She never said she loved me.

The sky changes
From a lovely gleaming blue
To an almost glaucous gray.

She never had to, though.

The clouds spread out
From golden-tangerine puffs
To wisps of white.

We always knew.

The frost glistens.

I hold on to that promise,
As I lay there,
Under the shade of some lovely rhododendron.