One of the Wild Things
photo: pine tree branch taken at Arcadia, CA
ivy creeping up the stucco
latching on and sucking all the civilization
& remnants of what used to be
a childhood unexcavated
See those mossy loose bricks?
we used to smash acorns with
stealing their twin caps
in exchange for our crowns
petals still line the uneven path
but now, just for itself
there's a tranquility here
in the unsilent silence
the cool fresh green of the grass
the rough pine needles, therapeutic
as they are weaved into braids
by restless hands
do you remember how we raced
with lizards, to their bushes
bright wide eyes peering at
a broken egg shell
what a treasure it was, then
how I wish it were still gold
the tree that gashed my stomach
has grown ever so tall
and I, with it
as we stretch towards the sun
no longer monkeying around
too busy filtering through the watery sky
for streaks of dusty gold
the breeze blows by
fluttering rain of gold leaves
because some things never change
the mother oaks rustles a hug
and I tell her it's good to be home
even if I am no longer
one if the wild thing
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