My chest heaves

As I weave through the leaves

That the winter’s frost

Forgot to freeze and rot.

 

Can they see me

Through these trees?

I stop and drop

On my knees atop

The leaves.

 

I will my breath to cease.

The cop could hear me

Breathe release and seize

My need for victory.

 

This is not hide-and-seek.

This is man hunt.

 

Down on the ground

I hide from the sound

Of boys being found.

I confide in the dark bark

Around and bide my time.

I will not be found.

I will not be found.

 

The light in the night glows

From the life that shows

Bright through the windows.

Husband and wife and

Husband and wife whose

Excitement ignites echoes

 

That grow

And grow

And go.

 

I look to the stars that are

As they are and feel

Like a crook as I steal

A look from afar.

 

The cries of the guys dwindle

And die as they meander

Inside while I hide

And kindle my pride.

 

For I know what they don’t

And can feel what they won’t

Since what’s real is a joke

Because real is this oak

Where I feel the surreal.

 

So go.

I’ll sit here alone

With my dear oak and grow

On my own in this queer

World so near unknown.

 

And I’ll glow.

And I’ll glow.

But for now I go

With poise back to the boys

Who don’t know.