And like a willow
Or a river birch
I found my self
Rooted and simply standing
Often and at times
Victim of the wind
Which wound and weaved
Through the years limbs
And every so often
Men would stumble upon
Me in search of the
The river in which
They swam I drank
Throwing off their clothes
And splashing and diving
In and beneath me
The river their baptism
And me their comfort
Like a book finally
Written my story told
I sit and wait
To be read knowing
That I’m chock full
Of adventures if only
Someone wishes to go
On them with me
I’m at that point
Of not knowing anymore
Different when I was
A child for then
I wondered but now
I know I don’t
Like being cast overboard
Able to swim but
For how long and
For what purpose really
Before oh long before
I knew what I
Wanted wanted to be
But now that I’ve
Become something how do
I say I’m done
Like the casserole reminding
The cook it’s time
To take me out
And enjoy me now
Why is it that
When you’re looking for
Something you tend to
Find everything else but
Not the oh that’s
Where that thing is
But rather yeah I
Definitely don’t want that
It’s as though someone
Said just try this
Knowing that it’s not
Going to taste or
Feel anything as promised
HARLAN DIDRICKSON 