Leaf No
When I was a seed,
all I needed was
some grounding.
But even rooted,
all I wanted was
to shoot.
When I shot up,
I seethed to leave
(not understanding what
the “F”–)
And climbed way out upon a limb
where swaying with each passing wind,
I fell to the ground again
(and here I am, and here I am).
Now, I’ve had some time to learn
more than I’d lief know
of what it means to be sown, oh yes,
and what it is to grow.
*********************
Yes, tired. Yes, eminently drafty. 14th poem for the month of April. Posted belated in Real Toads Open Platform, hosted by the wonderful Kerry O’Connor. This one influenced by a song she posted whose title is Seven Years.
Pic is mine taken this morning of Central Park, modified. Sorry if late returning comments; will be there!
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