Adolescence: my roots and branches.Posted: April 17, 2012
Yes, that was me up in that tree,
You could tell by the skunned knee,
It was me, there,
Me with the stringy hair,
Only from the mayonnaise,
said to be a natural conditioner,
and lemon-juice highlights…
I was a salad,
Waiting to be tossed.
What did I know
In my gangly days,
Fair and shy,
Growing heat, summer daze?
Me with my books,
I read only classics and romance, then
Apart from the world,
Or was I a part of it,
Nearer the clouds, one with the tree?
Taking in the hills, beauty as far as I could see,
Straddling earth and the heavens,
Proving the skill of scaling that tree
Certainly beat the boys
Chasing after me.