And now the
Birds outside my
Windows have begun
To sing the
Tickling morning melodies
Awakening a sleepy
Saul who is
Stretching and yawning
Soft crimson east
Beyond the trees
Like the aroma
Of apple pie
Wafting through checker
Curtained kitchen windows
Or like your
Rough shadow as
It brushes against
My cheek kissing
Me good morning
And yet again
I am that
Bear the boy
Outgrew the bike
The girl forgot
The letter unopened
And the ornaments
Stowed in attic
I’m the deserted
Baseball field the
Empty beach the
Quiet carnival and
The vacant bigtop
I am alone
Once being something
Now quite another
I am but
One blossom in
A field of
Wildflowers one
Tree in a
Wood one snowflake
In a blizzard
And one raindrop
In a downpour
The difference is
That I’m the
Flower in your
Vase the shade
In which you
Sit the flake
Caught on tongue
And the drop
That landed softly
On your lips
I have finally
Understood my own
Sadness on the
Pursuit of happiness
I have forgotten myself
So concerned about
Others I lost
Track of me
Like setting
A falcon free
Of tether and
Hood I myself
Flew free and
Disappeared like a
Winged dot on
The horizon yet
Knowing at some
Point I’d return
To me of which
I now have
Back to roost
I no longer
Want others I
Simply want me
This is not
Selfish it is
However now Grand
And like a
Child on his
First bicycle free
Of feet I
Fly wind in
Hair adventure in
Heart I ride
Down my street
And now turn
The corner and
Down the lane
Finally growing up
HARLAN DIDRICKSON 