Hedgerow

.
The hedgerow fronting my grandfather’s house
made a perfect hurdle which he scolded me for using,
but which I did whenever I thought he wasn’t looking,
but he seemed always to be looking 
so I was
always hurdling and he ever accusing

The field behind our house on Oak
was wider than the a continent,
it’s climbing tree tallest, its high blue
spread wider than a prairie sky—

we’d spend days there taking everything
the place would give us, gifts of high grass
and its rich underside with every
creeping crawling resident

They were days that would expand us
when roots were sent and dies cast
in hours that would mark and brand us:
make us bigger, smaller, straight or bent

.

by Jim Culleny
5/30/12

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s