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by Linda Leavitt

You scamper small steps
across a grassy field
where yellow buds await
your soft
and curious hands
to pull them free of earth
and shove deep into
purple pockets...

you gather these buds for me

When small steps
become measured leaps
and your soft hands
and tender heart
become callused
and the buds you gather
are for someone else...

don't expect me to let go.

and indivisibly
we are connected,
like the shoelace
I taught you to tie--
occasionally loose at the knot
but forever joined at the heart.

my child--
I have never loved anyone
so hard as I love you.

Reprinted with permission by Karen Dowell for Two Dog Press. From A Year on the Avenue, Athens Avenue Poetry Circle. © Copyright 1998 by the Athens Avenue Poetry Circle. All Rights Reserved. Originally appeared in Free Zone Quarterly.

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Document last modified on: 12/31/2000

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