Primitive
Away from the house
Under the clothes line
Down the short ridge
And over the lawn
Go through the plum trees
That sprout round the ditch
Boldly step into your own primitive country
There are hills, but you can't see them
Grass and growth so tall, you can hardly see
Yourself
You can wear many hats,
Any hat, here
There is the skunk tree
And the bush that can be hidden under.
The skunk tree has a mysterious x
Carved right there on the trunk
What does it mean, but that your hat today
Belongs to a buccaneer?
When you come back the way you came
You can stop in the valley
Build a nest for me and you.
We will be birds, feathered and safe.
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My great-grandmother's home had a large back yard but after the back border of tangled plum trees, in the center of the block, there was a wilderness of imagination. I tried to put my feelings about this overgrown and protected place in this poem.
Beautifully written....!! Absolutely remarkable :D
ReplyDeletexoxo
I love the weaving of nature and self...great write!
ReplyDeleteI like this.
ReplyDeleteThanks for coming by to visit.
I love the title of your poem and the hidden place you showed us on this step by step adventure. Thanks for sharing the source of your inspiration with us.
ReplyDeleteSounds like my childhood.... so much better than xbox and video games
ReplyDeleteoh my...i loved it all...but that ending...building a nest and becoming birds.
ReplyDeleteamazing poetry! so happy to make acquaintance with your blog!
What a beautiful, gentle tour of a heart's space held in a place you've loved.
ReplyDeleteFor a second there, I thought you were giving directions to my great-grandmother's house. Lovely. ;-)
ReplyDeleteI am smitten with your ending! Nesting is so comforting~
ReplyDeletemany hats / any hat, here
ReplyDeleteseems like the heart of this pen, the open eyed dreaming ~
I got the wonderland feeling in the earlier phase. Delightful mood. But then we grow up don't we and nesting hones in
ReplyDeleteHave a creative month
Much love...
I got the wonderland feeling in the earlier phase. Delightful mood. But then we grow up don't we and nesting hones in
ReplyDeleteHave a creative month
Much love...
I love it! The secret home we all have inside us somewhere, remembered.
ReplyDeleteOh, me too! different terrain but the same effortless discovery of meaning and transformation. I am grateful to have a memory of it and grateful for this poem.
ReplyDeleteYou brought back memories for me as well. This is a wonderful memory captured in poem Cami!
ReplyDelete