by Stacey Cameron

I wrote this when I missed you most,

and your eyes reminded me of the light green

moss that grows in the backyard.

I bet you’ve never seen it, hidden away on a black sea of shredded bark, under the fair-

skinned rocks, and on the bottom of the evergreens, and maples.

I stand out there sometimes, in the yard,

mostly in the dark,

and wait for you.