Tag Archives: Poetry
Take me to the creek side where persimmons
grow, where the juice of plums and muscadines
streak children’s dirty faces like war paint.
We danced the rain dance, called on freezing snow
and bade thunder and lightning to go, while
huddled in our woodland huts, hidden from
an angry God beating his wayward wife,
or moving furniture; we did not know.
Those long ago summers were forever
with an end. Did we hear the keening trees
cry in sorrow over a child’s lost dreams?
As children do, they grow and drift away
forgetting huts and magical games they
built in utter faith along the winding creek.
But, I remember and I am starved
for the peace that only the wild gods know,
charging barefoot and naked through untamed
undergrowth, saving little girls lost in the wilderness.