There's a hole in the tree
outside
cross the street
from my sister's house
like a gaping portal
something calling
inviting
reach my hands there to that lip
and grip and stretch and pull it like labia
that stretches wide to release
stretching wide
I'll hoist myself up
up and in
and in
right down
to the belly and the soul of that tree
And I will snuggle there
nestle there
amid the wood scent
and dream and dream
wow your luck t have found that i once knew a tree that had a hole in it........, it waas dead sort of like how i felt at the time when i saw it (i was a bit dead in side) .., , ********** plz read and review my poems plz ******************
thank you Davidia. Yes, that is kind of how I felt also when I wrote the poem. Though the tree was not dead, I was at a pretty low point, hence my desire to climb in and stay.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
dream is wonderfully written as a poem and it is nice.
Thank you.