20100827

C. W. Emerson

TEN THEN

To my boy’s eye the cypress could outreach the sky
but it barely stood seven foot tall. I was ten
the time you chose to jack and abandon us all
when we listened so hard for your taking leave song
I was ten. All that we had was all we
could sell. I was ten then. It would be ten
years more before the first faint flurries of hope the
first new shoots of forgiveness could take root unseen under
the green tree line. Now nothing towers over me anymore.
Me I was ten then. Nothing small remains small forever.

6 comments:

  1. whoa - this just hit me like a baseball bat, so strong, and powerful and yet
    with a voice so vulnerable and aware - and finally a celebration of survival and triumph!
    Bravo!

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  2. Don, this is my favorite poem. I like the way it gripped my heart and let go with a gentle release. Very fine, indeed.

    ReplyDelete
  3. I like this one best. Very nice work.

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  4. the poet is quite an exceptional writer who has come up with an exceptional
    poem. excellent.

    ReplyDelete