I wove the branches of the two bushes
into an archway; that was the ceiling.
I stitched magnolia leaves together with
monkey grass; that was the carpet.
I'd take my lunch in a brown paper bag:
a hunk of cheese, a piece of bread, an apple
once I got my braces off. I'd eat my lunch
and dream in there, under the azaleas.
I took my Swiss Army knife, the little black one
I found in the mud, and stripped the bark
to eat like carrot peels. I always dreamed
of living in the woods, like Sam Gribley, with his
pet falcon. I'd work at a farm nearby, and
fall in love with the farmer's son.
His name would be John or Peter or Edward,
and he'd try to help me
but I'd show him my azaleas,
my little pocket knife,
and my Lil Sioux bow without any arrows--
I didn't need a man to protect me;
I just wanted one.
YOU ARE READING
Random Poetry
PoetrySometimes poetry just bleeds out of me. Funny poetry, serious poetry, poetry that has good meter and complicated stuff, or poetry that's just a jumble of rhyming words. <Note: The first 20 or so are MOSTLY old poems, kinda light and silly and f...
