Poem To Michael's Girlfriend Poem by David McLansky

Approaching evening
Between the branches and the gray green leaves
Big Sad Eyes and a small mouth
Hardly big enough to push a cherry through;
A flowing mane of tresses - blended red, gold, and brown;
You stand innocent, protected by your eyes
As they vacate and stammer;
Soft night gypsy of the forest wood
The liquid spells of earth are in your eyes
And the forest is a bed leaf gray
Nestling down to sleep;
Birds call in the darkness
And the cricket sounds the guard
Across the forest floor;
Gypsy woman
You are no more