you didn’t wait.
you didn’t wait for the seeds to take root,
to sprout.
to reach their tender green buds up to the sun,
to shake the soil beneath them.
you just left.
you left because you couldn’t see
the sun.
you left because all you could see
was dirt.
dirt untouched by the rays of light
that rise over the roof of the house at dawn,
dirt thirsty for the soft summer rain
and the cool mist of morning.
and now
you want to pluck the blossoms off the branches
and taste the sweet flesh of the fruit on your tongue
but good things come
to those who wait.
and all those years ago,
when there was nothing but a little dirt
and a buried dream,
you
didn’t
wait.
you want to pluck the blossoms off the branches
and taste the sweet flesh of the fruit on your tongue
but good things come
to those who wait.
and all those years ago,
when there was nothing but a little dirt
and a buried dream,
you
didn’t
wait.
I like your repetition of "wait" a lot, and I like how you continued the flower/fruit metaphor throughout the poem; it was pretty cool.
ReplyDeleteI think it was really powerful how your poem was written as a metaphor because it leaves the meaning up for interpretation to the viewer.
ReplyDelete