Age – a contrapuntal poem for dVerse

Half killed by lightning
paper doll
left burnt and broken
stubbornly pushing out
against the window, fluttering
green leaves, each spring
in the soft breath of the day,
as if the sap still rises
fearfully, fearfully,
joyfully, joyfully.

You are the same substance
made delicate, artifice
drinking the rain, eating the sun,
dressed in soft paleness
oak tree imagining the world
carrying a parasol, an umbrella,
feet deep in the dark soil
hands reaching, reaching,
branches open wide
fearfully, fearfully,
joyfully, joyfully.

This is for Paul at dVerse. It’s a contrapuntal poem – two poems that can be read separately or combined to form something new. The formatting on WordPress has defeated me on several occasions, so the only way I could think of separating the poems was to put one in plain font and one in italics. Three poems for the price of one! Bargain.