Generic Landscape Views

have you found your red ribbons?
i tied them to the weeping willow
(can you keep a secret?)
it told me solace is beginning to seem overrated-
i said / i am, constant, you have
not found my amber yet?
hidden beneath the golden soaked hair—
the jewels from the breath of the trees—
have you found it?

i hope, there, you see
you see the prayer (whispers)
in my eyes the death (clutching)
in memories, every second losing more
(come back, little girl-
my ankles are fragile
my bones far too white
my feet, the thorns, limping-
she runs and her hair in pigtails, ribbons flying)

shoved under my fingernails are your postcards
with their scalloped edges and generic landscape views
and a promise from you— 'i will bring the cameo'
to burn it into my skin
bring with you a branch from the myrtle tree
disregard her quiet grief- and please, please

come back little girl.

to felix and toto (dearest friends)
find me the orange tree
the ladder, to climb
for the sting on the sores-
and my lips, bleeding&burning
she is gone, i cannot find the willow

she is gone, i don't know my prayers

i am gone, and they wait,

with a query-

still yet,
have you found your red ribbons?