A climbing tree,
with limbs outstreched to grasp me in a hug
hear my secrets on the wind
braid my hair with ribbon leaves
and dance and play and leave
leave my work beside her roots
upon the earth
I scramble up
on lower branches
the child in school or playschool now
where lunchtime is a forest of friendly trees
Until I hug up,scramble higher
mid sized limbs
and I a youth
who kisses on these branches, or dreams of kisses,
and waiting reads a book
before reaching higher
I hug up.
Hug up higher, highest limbs
where secrets spill like special water,
safe, swallowed tears by shoots and braches
woes a mother dares not mention
When I've worn all the shoes,
sunk all the ships,
forgotten the wax and burnt the cabbage
commited crimes against the King.
I, a child of twenty-three
caught in a middle aged nightmare
in school still, but not to play
in love still, but with my child
hugging still the aunt whose branches
wait for me to leave my work
amongst her roots
until Im planted
grounded in my own rich earth.
No comments:
Post a Comment