i carefully cut branches from a cherry tree
its blooms in all stages
first vibrant red
buds aching to erupt
and then pinked
full, open with petals that flutter in a warm breeze
until the white comes
with age in wisdom and prepared to relinquish all
these three sprigs I weave together
graft and plant
until none could tell one from the other
when it grew
with posture that could catch
the exhales of all the men taller than me
i clipped another branch
bigger than my thumb
and began to whittle
an instrument
strong enough to grace
with charming melody
the sweet aroma
the shade
the blossom pressings that now adorn my wall
and with each stroke
and shaving peeled
i realized that i was reaching your core
and that soon you would splinter
break even
so i got to the heart of you
and stayed there
shaving a finer point
until i could poke myself
and draw blood
May 11, 2013
May 11, 2013 at 1:13 AM UTC
i carefully cut branches from a cherry tree
its blooms in all stages
first vibrant red
buds aching to erupt
and then pinked
full, open with petals that flutter in a warm breeze
until the white comes
with age in wisdom and prepared to relinquish all
these three sprigs I weave together
graft and plant
until none could tell one from the other
when it grew
with posture that could catch
the exhales of all the men taller than me
i clipped another branch
bigger than my thumb
and began to whittle
an instrument
strong enough to grace
with charming melody
the sweet aroma
the shade
the blossom pressings that now adorn my wall
and with each stroke
and shaving peeled
i realized that i was reaching your core
and that soon you would splinter
break even
so i got to the heart of you
and stayed there
shaving a finer point
until i could poke myself
and draw blood
NOT a weapon
Request permission to use this poem