Sunday, May 22, 2016

In therapy, but in no way

A whole childhood sitting there 
reading the side of a cereal box, fighting off 
the roaches, left and right, the wise cracks,
over and over, but who wants to talk about that 
anymore - let’s flash forward to us up in the High 
Sierras, up to the top - heads warmed in the sun 
unlimited blue sky over all that new white snow
surrounded by far sees over miles of fir trees
chittering birds and chipmunks and somewhere
bears and coyotes hanging around up here 
(so watch out!), sage all through the free wild wind
and, of course, through the likewise you and me
(so wise now!), and how did we get up here
in the sparkling and gurgling 
out of that bad old neighborhood 
in the barking and burglaring, 
while meanwhile, down there
in that blue sometimes green river 
beneath the froth and cool bubbling, friendly fish  
are making eye-contact with us; one of those fish slinks 
smoothly into a side pool alone, floats peaceful
gets still, looks up here, bubbles pop 
out of his mouth, float up through the blue 
sometimes green, then at the surface, POP
which means, up here, on the mountaintop, 
after translation:
                               Howdy neighbor! 

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