On an old favorite.

It's been a while since I've taken the time to leaf through my old books, but recent conversations have had me thinking about poetry. I found an old gem, something that still makes my scalp prickle every time I read it. I don't even really know why; it just always lingers in my head.

So I'm gonna feed it to you. In your face.

Lying Beneath a Maple Tree (for Pat)

Robert K. Johnson

Thirteen, I was pulled so deep

  into the countless shades of green

found in the sun-hazed leaves,

  I wanted this lush sight to mean

even more than its bountiful self.

  And it did. When we first met, I knew -

in one breath - those glistening leaves

  were a foreshadowing of you.