I should find

some way to combine

the lightness of these giggles

and earnest, loaded questions,

this freedom, ropes of light,

my sorrow, pounded wisdom.

 

I should move

between the child who wants

just to be fickle, tickling, gaping,

and this silent, throbbing person

whose torments are my own.

Red leaves are rotting under too much care.

 

Can we tilt

among laughter and despair

mid point into mid air,

relinquish choice and pull

for once, and once for all?

 

As I lie in bed, awake,

unmoving, my limbs hurting,

trying not to hurt you,

I think I hear

the children out there playing,

the ghosts inside you crawling,

enough to burst one heart.

 

But hearts won’t burst

so easily

and children will not teach us

if we don’t follow.

and we must follow.

 

I must find

the only way to choose

and to give up

between the lightness

and my serious gaze,

below the stars

and in their midst.

Forgive this heart,

forgive it quick.