the woman who was an old maple tree

‘Cause everything is never as it seems

line from the song “fireflies” by someone called Owl City

for WeWritePoems

the woman who was an old maple tree

her hair below the line of gray is black
a painted matte without the gloss of coal
and sparse as winter grass
her arms are thin
almost emaciated
lacking strength,
she who was lithe
enough to thread her body
through a wedding ring
can’t bend to pick up pins or pennies
her chest within its narrow ribs
is round and hard
a wooden cage with welded cooper’s bands
her breathing comes in gasps
as thin as window glass
she thought of the immaculate
when her womb began to swell
but knows the pain
is wrong for blessing
still bears it for remembrance
like the black that lacks the gloss of coal.

I was going out to check the mail, and something in the light or my mood, something I couldn’t catch with a camera showed me that scrawny scarred water-jointed limb of the maple in the yard as an old woman’s arm, raised reaching for something.  The rest followed.

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Posted on 2010/09/14, in poetry, Uncategorized, writing. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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