He lifts his head from a fixed stare on the branches, <br />absently acknowledging <br />how the snow adorned the fern <br />the way her white sweater had draped her shoulders <br /> <br />The night they lit down a blunt on the side of a bar <br />at the base of the mountains <br />in Montréal. He and his buddies had, <br />moments before, <br />brutalized the Canucks in a three round pool tourney. <br /> <br />the blaze engulfed the ice of the trees: <br />A fixture of ruby crystal <br />translucent against <br />the thick verdant of December borough. <br /> <br />He, a ravishingly decent <br />triple diamond rider - <br />and not afraid to tell her so, <br /> <br />Albeit actions spoke louder <br />than any vocal vouching. <br /> <br />Supposing she’d never learn the difference between <br />confident and cocky, <br />she'd just as soon give him the benefit of the doubt. <br /> <br />Pulverized her being to see the boy fly <br />faster than speeding cars down those slopes. <br />Vaguely recalling, now, how Burton Boards wanted to sign him <br />before he got injured, was pronounced crippled by the industry - <br /> <br />She, had been navigating the dance floor <br />with a broken compass to guide, no less <br />And no more of a diffused orientation. <br /> <br />Request for a dance & he had answered, <br />voice tension notably mounting, <br />“You don't know what you're getting yourself into, babe.” <br /> <br />She, had the smarts to walk away. <br />Even though, <br />I couldn't find the door.<br /><br />s./j. goldner<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/eskimo-melted-or-stark-veil-of-flavored-pleasantries-subdued/
