Hay Fever

You were asleep in your dark barn,
honey, and dreaming of the son, so -
I filtered through the slats -
and lit up the lonely stalls -
and you looked directly at me, so
like an eclipse I blinded you.

We tumbled through the hills of hay,
honey, hunting halfheartedly for -
a needle, a thimble, a rag -
to wipe away your lazy eyes -
we were wishing wantonly that we
would not be pricked.

And then we heard the evening crickets,
honey, and knew the day was done, so -
I grew from the ground - like Narcissus -
whispering, where is your dark barn and
where are your needles nesting now?
why did you never sneeze?


-4/8/10