A Poem By Forsythe

i keep watching your sunny smiles
that rise in the east
and set in the west

because there's nothing to do
but sit here
knees shaking slightly
and wait for spring

i could sit here
and write about
your hands clenching slightly
the cars racing past the intersection
your eyes floating on the wind
but where is the poetry
in routine

my dreams are rainy days
painted with a little too much water
in sloppy brushsrokes
that blend
me in with my surroundings

i've learned to see clearer with tears in my eyes
then when they are dry
 
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