Begging you to Look

Begging you to Look

With each passing tree, field,
Blade of slender grass, the gentle
hillside frosted with the reflecting
Dew basking in the warming sun,
A juicy orange plastered in the pinks
Purples and blues of a cotton candy sky,
I’m hoping that you’ll look.

Framing your subdued profile
Oaks, maples, and buckeyes golden,
Rusted, murky brown carpeting
The floor, the whistling wind is brisk
With ice warmed by spicy pumpkin
Cider and apples.
I’m wanting you to look.

While shuffling along through the tall,
thick snow, crisp with sugared ice, glittering
Glowing in the frosty creek, rushing waters
now silenced by its glassy lid. Through a cherry
red nose comes pine, spruce, flooded with home
style ham, warm bread, vanilla cookies.
I’m asking you to look.

Wet sheets of rain and mushy puddles
Small green sprouts praising the life giving water,
Old, dead, rotted wood washed away by rushing
Streams, color burst from everything fresh pinks
Creamy whites and a field of greens, a foggy haze
Softens the earth.
I’m praying that you’ll look.

The colors all are flying past, outside the
waiting window. You sit alone, speeding
Unaware, the cycle of day and night
Beyond your line of sight.
I’m begging you to look.