Wishes

Wishes

I wish I were silverfish thin enough
To slip between the sheets of your dreams.

I wish to see again the
Fingertips of popples,
Swelled pink in the fresh light,
Cloud-shrouded light,
Bouncing off dead snow.

Before the leaves began
Winking, you twisting
At your stem,
Before the fall,
Twirling to land upon a bed
Of forest mould,
Staring at a blank sky.