Growing Up Woodland
We climbed the boulders and grabbed fistfulls of pine needles
Cracked twigs with every step
Emily Callahan said she liked Old Blue Eyes
I told her I liked Sesame Street
at the edge of the woods right before the road
there’s a flower i’d never seen before
Emily says stop its illegal to touch it
it’s a lady’s slipper and why didn’t I know that
this was the greatest thing i’d ever seen
bright yellow and so shiny in the sun
it wasn’t so much a flower as
a drawstring pouch like the one dad keeps his fortune cards in
it stooped like an old lady
under the weight of what might be fairy dust
i wouldn’t touch it but i knew
it would give a wish to those who dared
Life is so beautiful, wonderful, so amazing and sweet. Sorry to post two poems in a row without audio, but I promise you that I could never let such behavior become habitual.
Oh, as long as I'm posting maybe-unfinished-but-possibly-not poetry, I should include-- what shall I call this poem?-- perhaps "Stephen", but then, there will be so many candidates for this title as I write more and more under the spell of love for my one and only.
I only regret the lack of rooftops
from which I can shout of my love
and that underwater, my mouth filled with rocks
in the trick of the old orators
my exaltation of a life in your arms
would be muted, softened by the tides
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2 comments:
The audio is missed, but it's understandable. Didn't knew I could be hooked to the audio until I lose it ;-)
Have a good weekend.
hi,dear ^^
this is the third time i came here but the first leave my comment. i am sorry to tell you the words on the computer are so small,however, i can see it . so is the poem wrote after a trip with your friends . if it is true, i can feel much natural things in your writing, just like the head portrait on your blog, i like the wood displaied tidily, your smile on playing notebook PC. so glad to come here, i think it is another home to you
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