Posted tagged ‘in search of tendrils’


March 19, 2013


 What I tell myself

To find peace, I should become
like a pea (post-pod), wholly
self-contained (if plain), without hand
to go unheld, back
to hold too much.

Except, even footless,
I’d roll to some dim chink where
I’d dry, wrinkle, winkle out
a sprout–starting out somehow
again (though tendrilled),
clinging to anything
once more, blossoms
in search of busy.

So maybe best to leave be, not become like
pea–but let snagged jags sprout, as they do,
their ragged growths of
pain, astonishment, wrinkles—hands stretching
from each chink,
back crumpling
with stumble, feet finding pace
each roll, each



Kind of an odd draft poem for dVerse Poets Open Link Night.  I don’t know what the poem’s about;  I do like peas. (I don’t eat them with a knife.)