Dad (a poem for Emily)


I was raised in the cuddle of that tree

Until the thorns came and

Knifed themselves into him,

Splitting him.

I couldn’t bear to rest

Against him

Because the thorns had entwined his trunk

And tore me when I crept close.

How beautiful I remember us


It scares me to think

How close…how far away …he was

After the thorns came.

There was a tear on that last day. He knew.

Ages now before

I nestle again

In the shoulder of that tree

Bent impossibly across the raging river,

Gnarled branches reach, stretch, strain

Out for me,

As if yearning

To whisper something important…


I can’t yet hear.

– For Emily April 29, 2007


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