A Dialogue

"HER"
In an attempt
To cut all the dead wood
Floating in the vaporous abstractions
I snapped my own roots.
Now I float rootless
Trying to plant myself somewhere
In some distant land
That exists only in my dreams.
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"HIM"
A sliver here and a sliver there
Of mold and moss. Green
Like tadpoles dead in a deluge
Of promises of a new Spring.
And so I am, I search,
A lumberjack planting trees
Of those dreams in lustrous farmlands
Of my unkempt, beautiful tomorrow.