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Contributed by banjo on Tuesday, 25th March 2003 @ 03:45:00 PM in AEST
Topic: Nostalgic

1. Back Pasture

We journey
Through miles of dandelions, scotch broom
In full bloom
Our steps are quick and light, the ground
sacred and secular,
holy by definition – this piece of ground,
earth and stuff,
this is ours,
this is us.

I do not know if a man can own
any of the earth. I am learning
that the earth can own
something of a man.

2. Maple Tree

We swing, breakneck without fear,
We climb with our eyes closed.
Reach for treenub and branch,
Laughing. Amongst vibrant leaves,
we are lost in color,
finally found in this giant.

Heartbeat slows, or speeds,
to match the rhythm found here.
Long left but never fully forgotten,
Like a womb of land.

3. The Woods

Into the darkness we tremble-step,
voices hushed. Things live here
we know not. Dreams,
and ghosts, and what else.
Here we are not we, we are
whatever we choose, or is chosen for us.
A maternal voice
calls us out, and we return to the light.

A collection of inanimate objects.
Keepers of my secrets, storage space
for my youth. A place of definition;
six acres, a chicken coop, and my childhood.

Copyright Â© banjo ... [ 2003-03-25 15:45:00]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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Re: Home (User Rating: 1 )
by The_Phantom on Thursday, 17th April 2003 @ 07:01:25 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

That was very enjoyable and very good. Great write keep it up.

The Phantom

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