‘when will she’
she brought the woods into my heart
but she insists on standing
outside our forest
this lone tree without sun
this bent thinking of hers.
when will she realize
she has every right to sky
and no seed goes punished.
of all the limbs i could choose
i choose hers to wait under
and when it becomes too much
i’ll cup all she spills
and gently nourish her roots.
when will she learn
whichever way she leans
is the direction i am after.
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© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.
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'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.
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