Amy's Blogtown USA
Schefflara, aka "umbrella tree": it's a metaphor for my heart, get it? Get it?
My Heart
The fruit of the umbrella tree,
skyward bursting
fireworks in lusty blood-flushed
red,
reaches through electric blues
eager
to receive your heat,
my round yellow sun,
Brian my love.
Rest in my shadows, on my bed
of satiny cool leaves
look up
and watch it grow
for you,
my heart.
Lovliness.
If I stay there will be trouble; if I go it will be double! So c'mon and let me know....
Okay, I'm not so sure about the trouble/double part. But I do know that life in San Francisco is sweet, good jobs working with great people with good pay and benefits making one of the greatest things on earth aren't exactly falling from the sky; I miss you more than I know how to say, not to mention "ain't no sunshine when I'm gone" (for me, anyway) -- adds up to a hell of a pickle: should I stay or should I go?
