To me it's sad to see how these Americans live
because when I was a teenager Mary's age I lived on a lake and since Dad owned a marina we had different ski boats all
the time and I lived in the lake all summer and we had 2 snowmobiles between 3 kids loving it so I was always on
one alone or with a brother cruising above the weeds and pricker bushes of summer and spring hid under pounds
of snow and we could go anywhere the deer could and
followed them actually
and had a cabin on a cold spring-fed trout creek deep
in the woods of northern Michigan
the world my oyster, not knowing it then
or maybe I did, I lingered over every fresh-mown grass sensation --the buzz of bee and crackle of light from sheet
lightning far away on the horizon and hypnotizing sounds wash of waves of the great Lake Huron upon the rocky shoreline
and feel of sunlight steaming into you with not just Vitamin D but something inebriating that makes every little
tree's shadow so forever imprinted
somewhere
for someone
every girl you know
eight to twelve years old having that moment
gone now forever and over and ever in a million different ways, the place, the girls, the old ladies that
replaced
them at some point
the memories of all
sisters once for a grand moment
in the green green fields where team sports engaged
summer campers all apace
financially so sad it changed
I wouldn't have wanted to raise
kids this way.
How could any one be so stressed
Are we the only ones? Thank God He's blessed the rest.
They couldn't take it--it's too hard
to love in life what's set apart
from you now and just in your heart
that you can smell and hear and see and delight in only in your dreams
while the great majority
of your country men
still have boats, adventures , send
their kids to camp , it did not end
only for this girl
who wandered on in
the Pruner's sheers
the rest all feared.
It then awaits,
all people's fate,
can't be escaped
the leveling weight
of the scales of how did you love and how did you hate
whether hearing of neediness you turned your face
and a camel can fit through a pixel of space
and altogether like campers our unity's
fierce or if it's a shambles and Christ's being pierced
by us now as we let these the least struggle;
us with so much except too little love will
be pruned from the Vine til it's only God's kind much as He
loves us ( see? He weeps) He must chuck us..
