Love and Words


the tree behind me


It's been forever now,

since I have been

where I am from.

I've visited all the places I have known

the lakes and creek and roads,

slept in the houses

that held my youth and dreams,

but it's been forever now,

since I have been

where I am from.

I wonder, sometimes,

if it still exists on a map.

A small solid place

that inside,

seemed as large as the world.

The walls thick and proof

against sound and cold,

the fire in the grate

making the air smell

like a holiday.

And company,

there always was,

whether I knew them well or not,

liked them some or a lot.

One had only to turn the corner,

or climb the stair,

to find that there was

some one else there.

I'm not sure

what happened to all that.

You see,

one day in the midst

of the same,

there came a storm - 

nothing grand of godlike,

just a summer storm

with refreshing wind,

just strong enough

to fell the tree

that had grown

outside the window

where it could always be seen.

I can't help but think,

if someone had spoken to me

in that moment,

if a guest had come down the stairs

wondering how to make the water hot,

I would have only thought

for a moment

what was no thought 

and then pushed it aside,

but uninterrupted,

that thought took my hand

and led me outside.


To see the tree

I had always known

and seen in my dreams,

taller than it was in the day,

lying tilted

and pulled from the ground.


I didn't look inside and suddenly discover

that all I thought green and alive,

was not.


I didn't look in the hole 

where the roots had been

and discover a cavern of secrets,

I did not.

I didn't do any of those things.


I went outside

and looked

at the tree I had always known

and saw it tilted and pulled from the ground.

I could see the sap running from the

heart to the scars,

and I thought that thought

that was no thought at all.


And that thought

took me by the hand

and we started to walk.


Through the fields and into the forest

I had always found so frightening

I walked,

until when I turned around,

the place where I had been,

was hidden

by the tree

behind me.

Now today,

I have few friends,

and even less moments

of just company.

But I find,

despite a few moments of longing,

that seem to come

in the heat of the day,


I have my fill

more then I have known before.


But it can change,

the way life is wont to change

in a second or so,

when you think

you would have been better off


and turned from that window.

yet had I been,

I realize now,

although it has taken me years,

had I been,

I would not

have found myself

here, at all.


decagon          poetry 



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