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.