Two Loves

Great old trees along the city boulevard
once had their strong branches severed,
burned, disposed, or repurposed.

But on a beautiful blue sky kind of day,
when a soft afternoon breeze ushers in the
transient whimsy of perfect cotton clouds
framed by soft new pale green leaves,
A subtle warmth is born; it radiates as quickly
as filtered sunlight soaks into flushed cheeks.
Conversations glisten like butterfly wings
from smile to smile, from glance to glance,
for how long, however, is fleeting made to last?

Still, underneath a full white moon towering over
rainstorm-flooded fields in the countryside,
the water reflects the night in silver and gray.

Behind glass bus windows--an exchange
Between deeply-rooted trees that braved storms,
their silhouettes rushing into view, against
Fruit bats and starlings swimming into
a dawn-like midnight sky--the progression
of thoughtful dialogue, and comfort, and silence,
the evening is aglow with another kind of warmth,
a warmth that comes not from passing flames,
but the quiet company of many, many years.