When Johnny Came Marching Home

I wish that I could rewind or push you forward to see
what I've been thinking about, mind-mending, found
while escaping like a child into a dream underneath the Christmas tree.
I like to think the world makes more sense here, lying on my back,
transfixed by the strong scent of evergreen and planets and strings of light.
My eyes float with the confettied lit pinpricks, sparkling nebulas of brown.

I've wished on stars and hoped and prayed for you that brown
would be more than the black furrowed dirt you see
more than the womb of crops and light
more than the life you found
when you came home, farm-bound, back
to the wall, a lone, strong, rooted tree.

You had no choice where you were planted, a family tree
Stronger than the orchard where our names carved brown
promised happiness when you whispered in my ear, cradling my back
And our future stretched farther than the land. I see
now that though you were returned, you aren't found.
Your dog tags, like your eyes, are dulled steel and no longer reflect light.

Your mother bakes you rhubarb pie, making light
of your darkness, and your nephew begs you for a boost up the tree
but you are silent. I can only wonder and glean from letters what you found;
a boy of eighteen grown to a man, the green leaf crumpled brown.
You look at me, go through the motions, yet do not see.
And more and more I see only your back.

Sometimes I like to think of you like our back
woods. I know you so well, yet without light
you frighten me with the forest of things I cannot see.
Instead of running, I stake a claim in my climbing tree,
offering a familiar deer stand, warm and brown,
reminding you that sport and solace can be found.

Take your time, work hard, but don't forget what we found.
Don't forget our embrace, kiss, or the small of my back.
Don't forget our dreams, our promises, our deep initials in bark brown.
I will wait all night with you until the clarity of dawning light
burns away your numbness and we can plant a new tree,
until hope and strength and clean dirt are all you see.

And when you've looked around, been found, and see
me, once more pin my back against our lovers tree
and we will melt as one, into the heart of carved brown.