author’s note:
It seems that a Tripod formatting change now creates extra space between the lines of the poem.
I don't like the appearance, but perhaps it's easier to read.
This new system also prohibited me from posting an image with the entry.
This poem is dedicated to the city of Chicago--my first real city. A city that nurtured my salad days. In memory, I am nurtured still.
TREE MEMORY
Down along the dark waterfall cliff
trees at various angles
cling to rock in ways
that remind me of those people--
known only in passing,
passing on the rainy gray street, heads
bowed as they feel the thoughts
rumbling in the subway beneath our feet,
their silence speaking to something
roaring within me--I couldn’t hide from
myself--they wouldn’t let me--
the tree roots are
the raincoat feet--
the layers of water
crashing--
the howl of the city.
© 2006, Michael R. Patton
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