Falling Together (Color Poem 6)

Falling Together

     Green

There is a tickle in my vein

and a pulling in my stem.

I cling

     to my tree,

          my home,

the strong, moss-covered branch

where I have grown.

Below, I see a girl

   her legs bouncing,

   wringing her hands,

   staring at a white rectangle

   beside her.

Again, I feel the pulling,

the gentle but assertive caress

of the wind, like the fingers of a small child,

plucking me from the tree as they would

a berry from beside me.

I hold on still

and I watch

and she pulls out something silver

   shining

from her pocket.

     Opening it,

     closing it,

     glancing down

     as if to open it again,

     shoving it back into the pocket.

The wind pulls once more

and I can’t hold on.

So I

     fall

            down,

         drifting,

    further,

and land on top of the white rectangle,

covered in black scribbles.

The girl’s small hands

lift me and she stares, before

looking up with wide eyes

at the sound of footsteps.

Her legs are no longer bouncing and

I see someone else

in her line of sight

and the last thing I see is her smile

like a light from a star in the darkness

closing in before

I am gone.