Saturday, September 12, 2009

Lemon Tree

(Pre-Script: This poem best paired with the song, " She Will Be Loved," #11 on the playlist, So go down to the playlist, click on that song, then come back and resume reading. I'll wait...) (...still waiting...)

If you want to pick a lemon from my tree
you should know I will not leave-
guilt is not the thing left dripping in my garden-
too late have I tasted bitter regret,
too slowly have I seen the bleeding fingers
not dripping red, but caked on brown, (this is
old blood), these are old wounds
of late they must be scrubbed
with muscle, teeth clenched in resolution
washed until the water runs clear
If you want to pick a lemon from my tree
bend your bones deliberately
and weep over the soil softening dirt around
roots and dreams
buried together, now intertwined
deep beneath my little lemon tree.


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