Tagged: the Trees
Flat Earth
I remember in church
a woman was having trouble
praying to God
sexually abused
by her father and now her husband
she couldn’t take another man
Make God a woman, the pastor
told her. Granted, this
was a Methodist church
Mom liked it for the choir
Dad always felt
he could ignore what he didn’t like
the matter of interpretation
heavy. some things did happen. we
did slay our memories
we did find a dead spot
in the woods
i knew of it
in the way one knows our planet
through pictures
through the elements of trust
wind, fire, through blood
like a meteor disintegrated
how can I ever
get far enough away
to see
what is really the world
to see it touched
by the hands
we are told mean time
and know the forest
for the stars
how on Earth
will I recognize
my mother, her face
like there had been people
After Climbing a Tree
half of you begins alone
cast in doubt among rocks
by chance fossilized
inexplicably timed
asked to trust the atmosphere
to observe your body’s
race into alignment
without really participating
the mind wields
a sword-stick
of soul
time will enclose
the others, their colorful
reeds poked through
puddles of air
you learn man
from dangerous man
the mountain range
at which love
becomes too much
you know things like
righty, tighty
lefty, loosey
bleed the faucets
for a freeze
my father will always
come get me, even
if I’m not myself
night brings the sun
in, out of the rain
father’s armpits
smell of brown fruit
you know things like
if I got up here
then I can get down