Purging
I went to the woods to seek large thoughts,
Lying back in the drowsy sunshine
That gradually drowns one's thoughts and
Ejects them
By sighs
Until--
You melt into
Mere moss
On the trunk of a wise, old tree--
Or maybe--
A tendrily vine
Exploring the pithy treasure of
Barky book.
But--
As my ears listen for whispered leaf lore,
It does not come from high above--
It is beside me in the soil--
The pattering of creaturely feet
Over last year's dried out growth--
The serious and stern traipsing
Of the ants--
Spring cleaning--
Over and over each disorganized,
Misplaced dirt crumb and empty exoskeleton
Removed
Far from the nest
Making room for new desire.
--L.H.
I like this one very much.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Sir, but I will never be the great poet you are. If I am at all talented, it is because I learned from the best.
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